THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


Sentimental,    Patriotic, 
Humorous    and    Autobiographic, 


BY 


E.  H.  S.  HOLDEH,  M.D., 


Holbrook,  Long  Island. 


COPYRIGHTED      1886. 


'  A  youth,  (that's  borrowed,  as  you  all  may  know ; 

If  he  means  MK,  'tis  seventy  years  a^o), 
'  To  fortune  and  to  fame  unknown," 

This,  I  allirni,  though  borrowed,  in  my  own. 


NEW  YORK: 

THE  BEDELL  PRESS 

3DAV.&  175THS7* 

-  -VXS— io-» 


's 


TO    THE 

HOM.  WILLARD    BARTLETT, 

JUDGE  OF  THE  SUPREME  COURT  OF  THE 
STATE  OF  NEW  YORK, 

-^i  This  Volume  is  Dedicated,  Mi^- 

WITH    SENTIMENTS    OF    DUE    ESTEEM    AND    RESPECT. 
BY  THE  AUTHOR. 


Preface. 

NO  two  persons  are  precisely  alike.  Although  no 
one  is  perfect,  every  one  possesses  some  talent. 
We  all  desire  happiness.  The  question  arises,  What  is 
Happiness  ?  The  Great  Benefactor  has  so  ordained  that 
happiness  is  really  but  another  name  for  the  perform 
ance  of  duty.  The  querulous  may  parry  this  by  the 
question,  Are  we  not  happy  when  we  believe  ourselves 
so  ?  I  suppose  we  may  be  so  infatuated  by  our  passions 
as  to  delude  ourselves  that  the  possession  of  what  we 
desire,  though  by  dishonest  means  obtained,  will  afford 
us  happiness.  By  such  delusions  are  not  all  vices 
strengthened  and  encouraged  till,  by  frequency  and 
the  companionship  of  kindred  spirits,  though  in  the 
practice  of  dreadful  crimes,  we  satisfy  ourselves  with  the 
belief  that  we  are  at  least  as  good  as  our  fellow-men  ?  As 
I  have  already  said,  every  man  has  some  talent ;  it  is  his 
pleasurable  duty  to  use  them  for  the  benefit  of  his 
fellow-man. 

In  the  exercise  of  a  busy  life  for  the  support  of  the 
physical  element  of  man,  when  advancing  age  disables 
him  from  such  pursuit,  he  must  feel  immeasurably  grate 
ful  if  he  finds,  as  it  were,  an  undercurrent  come  to  the 


Preface. 

surface  whereby  he  can  contribute  to  the  happiness  of 
man. 

When  the  Author  was  in  his  eighty-second  year  a 
friend  expressed  a  wish  that  he  would  compose  and  pub 
lish  a  book  of  poems ;  although  some  of  them  were 
written  before,  the  "Autobiography,"  "Boiled  Boots,  or 
the  Sportsman's  Pride,"  and  several  others,  were  written 
subsequently.  As  the  Author's  sight  disables  him  from 
reading  or  writing  but  through  an  amanuensis,  he  begs 
the  indulgence  of  his  readers  for  the  inaccuracies  un 
avoidable  in  such  case,  especially  as  they  do  not  affect 
the  meaning. 


Index. 

PA6K. 

On  Books, :5 

On  Reading, 4 

Lines  Addressed  to  a  Young  Friend,          ...  5 

On  Happiness, 7 

Ode  to  Woman, 8 

On  Charity  of  the  Heart, 10 

On  the  Devotion  of  the  Heart,  .        .        .        .11 

On  Seeking  Knowledge, 12 

The  Fall  of  Fort  Sumpter, 13 

Boiled  Boots  ;  or,  The  Sportsman's  Pride,        .        .  20 

Benevolent  Institutions, 31 

The  Infidel  Rebuked, 36 

On  Friendship, 38 

On  Music, 39 

On  Faith 40 

Evening  Prayer, 41 

Be  Kind  to  the  Fallen 43 

Human  Hopes  and  Wishes, 44 

Lines  on  a  Rug, 45 

I  Know  That  My  Redeemer  Liveth,  .        .        .4(5 

Lucubration, 17 

A  Riddle, 49 

On  the  Futility  of  this  Life, 50 

The  Old  Man's  Apology, 52 

Symbolical  Tax, •">} 

The  Drunkard's  Lament, 5? 


On  the  Death, 58 

Testium  Sat  Est,          .......  CO 

Lines  Written  in  a  Lady's  Album,      .        .        .        .62 

Written  for  a  Boy, 63 

Autobiography, 65 

Lines  Written  in  an  Album 73 

Poem  on  a  Railroad  Accident, 75 


Introduction. 

WITH  wrinkled  brow  and  surly  look, 
One  asks  why  did  you  write  this  book  ; 
Such  might  with  reason  surely  be  suspected 
When  told  an  introduction  is  expected. 
Some  would-be  wag  may  say  the  phrase  is  stale, 
Write,  why,  of  course,  as  you  may  know  for  sale 
This  worthy  prose,  I'll  parry  it  in  verse — 
So  is  it  with  the  cradle  and  the  hearse. 
If  long  or  short  our  course  of  life  extend, 
The  first  the  preface  is,  the  last,  the  end  ; 
If  for  man's  life  a  simile  you'd  look, 
In  some  degree  you'd  find  it  in  a  book  ; 
But  to  the  question  thinking  I'm  of  age, 
I'll  answer  for  myself  or  will  engage  : 
The  question's  one,  but  I'll  give  answer  two  : 
The  first  is  this,  I've  nothing  else  to  do, 
The  other's  of  incalculable  weight, 
The  moral  things  of  man's  eternal  state. 


Oil  Jiooks. 


On    Books. 

OF  BOOKS,  as  men,  variety  we  find  ; 
Some  good,  some  bad,  some  coarse  and  some  re 
fined. 

In  some  you'll  surely  find  a  wealthy  mine 
Of  Heaven-born  Science  (laws  of  God  Divine). 

A  youth,  devoted  to  the  classic  page, 
Provides  a  Solace  for  advancing  age— 
Emitting  lustre  o'er  life's  evening  day, 
And  cheering  onward  with  her  peaceful  ray, 

Which,  (like  the  Sun  declining  in  the  West) 
More  radiant  glows  before  his  final  rest ; 
They  who,  for  mere  amusement  ONLY  read, 
Of  vain  repentance  sow  the  bitter  seed  ; 

Their  tastes  demoralize,  their  mind  decays, 
Their  conversation  ignorance  betrays. 
He,  whose  preferments  ribald  writings  crave 
To  groveling  vice  succumbs  a  willing  slave  ; 

Who  spurns  the  treasures  of  a  well-stored  mind, 
In  worthless  trash  his  pleasure  seeks  to  find, 
Like  the  shoal  brook  enfed  by  slimy  slums, 
Though  more  deceiving,  shallower  becomes. 


On  Readiny. 


On    Reading. 


THOUGH  GREAT  the  author,  and  though  TRUE  the 
fact, 

"Tis  worthless  if  the  reader  lack  the  tact 
To  rightly  judge  between  the  false  and  true, 
This  to  accept,  the  former  to  eschew. 
In  other  words,  the  ground  must  be  survey 'd 
On  which  the  author's  mental  tracks  were  laid, 
And  traced  the  steps  of  his  investigation, 
To  find  the  cause  of  his  determination  ; 
If  with  our  reason  clearly  it  agrees, 
The  knowledge  is  our  own,  if  not,  'tis  his  ; 
We  yield  submissively  servile  assent, 
And  with  our  ignorance  remain  content. 


Lilies  Addressed  to  a  Young  Friend. 


Lines  Addressed  to  a  Young  Friend  on  His 
Leaving  Home  for  College. 

AS  BEES,  disporting  through  the  sunny  hours, 
Sweet  honey  gather  from  promiscuous  flowers 
Of  vivid  scarlet,  or  ceruleau  blue. 
Unsullied  whiteness  or  of  sable  hue, 
So  thou  (as  from  a  friend),  from  bitter  foe, 
Spurn  not  the  anger  which  thy  vices  show  ; 
For  friends,  too  oft,  in  this  all  may  agree, 
Virtues  o'erpraise  ami  fail  defects  to  see. 
Choose  those  as  tit  companions  for  thy  youth, 
Who  think  no  sacrifice  too  great  for  truth  ; 
But  shun  the  man  whose  taste  is  so  perverse 
That  him  who's  bad,  will  vilify  as  worse. 
Be  sin  thy  hate,  but  let  the  veil  be  drawn 
Of  charity  for  sinners,  though  the  thorn 
Of  sin  may  be  by  condemnation  wrought, 
Through  penitential  tears  to  virtue  brought. 
If  calumny  assail  thy  friend  or  foe, 
QUICKLY  the  last  defend,  the  first  more  slow, 
Thy  words  will  prove  more  heavy  through  thy  hate 
Than  eloquence  of  a  friend,  however  great ; 
The  charge  of  partiality  would  lay 
'( laiust  all  the  approving  words  a  friend  could  say, 
But  when  defends  his  foe  the  generous  youth, 
All  must  admit  the  potency  of  truth. 
I 


Lines  Addressed  to  a  Young  Friend. 

Shun  as  a  viper,  with  disdain  extreme, 

The  man  who  holds  not  woman  in  esteem  ; 

Abhor  the  man  who  would  so  look  or  speak 

That  blush  would  tingle  on  fair  woman's  cheek  ; 

And  may'st  thou  be  to  other  beauties  blind 

But  those  reflecting  excellence  of  mind. 

Remember,   "  Time's  a  talent  only  lent," 

Let  not  the  moments  of  thy  youth  be  spent 

In  wasteful  idleness,  or  wanton  thought, 

But  with  sound  learning  and  with  virtue  fraught ; 

Such  will  a  source  of  happiness  unfold, 

When  you  arrive  at  years  considered  old. 

Few  be  the  years,  at  most,  before  the  head 

That  framed  these  lines  is  pillowed  with  the  dead  ; 

But  may  the  lessons  which  I  here  impart 

Receive  a  welcome  in  your  generous  heart. 

Such  is  my  wish,  your  ever-faithful  friend, 

Till  life  and  all  its  joys  and  sorrows  end. 


H 


On  Happiness. 


On  Happiness. 

E,  who'd  have  happiness  at  heart, 

To  others  must  that  bliss  impart ; 
For,  'tis  a  fact,  as  all  men  know, 
What  man  would  reap,  he  first  must  sow. 
No  selfish  motives  can  impart 
The  riches  of  a  generous  heart  ; 
But  who'd  possess  the  precious  treasure, 
Must  reap  his  joys  in  others'  pleasure  ; 
Must  freely  on  himself  impose 
The  burthen  of  another's  woes  ; 
For  the  afflicted  sorrow  feel, 
Assuaging  wounds  he  cannot  heal. 
No  frown  should  e'er  deform  his  face, 
But,  full  of  every  Christian  grace, 
His  heart  must  bound  with  generous  love 
(The  fruit  of  virtue  from  above). 
Smoothing  with  peace  throughout  his  life 
The  wrinkles  of  discordant  strife  ; 
For  others'  grief  must  sympathize, 
And  dry  the  tears  of  Sorrow's  eyes  ; 
Though  seeming  paradox  and  strange, 
We  can,  for  gladness,  grief  exchange, 
By  lightening  another's  care, 
Evoke  a  blessing  each  may  share. 


w 


Ode  to  Woman. 


Ode  to  Woman. 


HO  knows  the  depth  of  woman's  love, 

To  man  in  mercy  given  ? 
No  sordid  offering  of  the  Earth, 

A  boon  vouchsafed  by  Heaven. 


ii. 
There  is  a  heaven  in  woman's  smile, 

A  sadness  in  her  tear, 
A  sting  more  withering  in  her  scorn 

Than  all  beside  I'd  fear. 

m. 
There  is  a  witchery  divine, 

To  cheer  Life's  dreary  span, 
In  woman's  heart  doth  gently  twine 

Aronnd  the  heart  of  man. 

IV. 

Thy  presence,  Woman,  cheers  the  gloom, 
Edges  with  sheen  the  clouds  of  earth  ; 

Thy  sympathies  our  joys  enhance, 
In  our  griefs  thou  prov'st  thy  worth. 

v. 
Did  I,  as  some  affect,  opine 

Fair  woman  but  for  dalliance  born, 
My  happiest  hours  had  thwarted  been 

Of  earth's  most  precious  treasures  shorn. 


Ode  to  Woman. 

VI. 

No  happier  moments  e'er  I  know 
Than  those  which  from  her  accents  flow, 

No  fitter  means  my  soul  prepare 
To  kneel  before  my  God  in  prayer. 

VII. 

He,  of  base  villains  is  the  worst, 
Who,  projects  vile  doth  make, 

By  arts  to  win  (the  wretch  accurst) 
A  woman's  heart  to  break. 

VIII. 

A  hero's  fame  were  CHEAPLY  earned 
•  My  blood's  last  drop  to  pour, 
To  rescue  Woman  from  the  toils 
Of  the  destroyer's  power. 


On  C/iarity  of  the  Heart. 


On  Charity  of  the  Heart;   or,  True  Philan 
thropy. 


N 


O  cause  to  call  all  men  unkind 

If  you  possess  a  generous  mind, 
The  world  is,  as  a  mirror,  true, 
As  others  pass  reflecting  you. 
If  with  a  smile  you  others  greet, 
The  same  return  from  all  you'll  meet. 
You'll  find  the  world  will  never  brook, 
An  angry  tone  or  surly  look. 
All  have  not  means  the  poor  to  feed, 
Or  kindness  prove  by  generous  deed, 
But  a  kind  look  and  gentle  word 
The  very  poorest  can  afford. 
If  we  against  our  neighbor  rail 
Our  prayers  but  little  will  avail. 
Condemn  not  others  too  severe, 
But  thy  shortcomings  rather  fear  ; 
Our  TBTJEST  friend  and  spiteful  foe 
Our  grievous  sins  will  freely  show. 
Though  THIS  from  hate  and  THAT  from  love, 
Our  use  discreet,  will  wisdom  prove. 


On  the  Devotion  of  the  Heart. 


On  the  Devotion   of  the  Heart. 


W 


HEN  I  compare  the  fervent  zeal 
That  glows  within  the  Pagan's  heart 

Bowing  to  senseless  stone, 
My  languid  lips  deserve  reproach 
When  I  Thy  sacred  courts  approach 

And  kneel  before  Thy  throne. 
Though  metaphoric  flowers  of  speech, 

(The  coinage  of  tho  brain), 
May  soothe  an  earthly  monarch's  ear, 

They're  idle  words  and  vain. 
Anthems  harmoniously  composed, 

Melodiously  sung, 
Are  nought  but  empty  sound  unless 

The  heart  attune  the  tongue. 


On  Seeking  Knowledge. 


On   Seeking   Knowledge. 

YOU'LL  sometimes  meet  a  man  that  wherever  he 
goes 

Seems  to  think  that  his  eyes  were  to  see  but  his  nose  ; 
But  such,  mark  !  is  not  the  rule  but  exception  ; 
For  copy  let  wisdom  direct  your  selection. 

If  you  wish  another's  opinion  to  know, 
Avoid  by  all  means  your  own  knowledge  to  show, 
For,  if  he  suppose  that  you  know  more  than  he, 
He  may  not  feel  disposed  to  communicate  free. 

From  one  who  in  learning  is  far  you  behind, 
You  much  information  may  frequently  find, 
There's  hardly  a  man,  be  he  noble  or  mean, 
From  whom  you  may  not  some  intelligence  glean. 

Interrogate  Nature ;  she's  ever  at  hand, 
In  the  star-spangled  heavens,  broad  ocean  and  land, 
What  the  insect  minute  from  our  eyes  may  conceal, 
The  vast  megatherium  may  clearly  reveal. 


T/ie  Fall  of  Fort  Sumpter. 


The   Fall   of  Fort  Sumpter 

A   MERICA !  land  of  the  Free  ! 
r\     Well  may  thy  sons  be  proud  of  thee ! 
May  no  dark  cloud 
The  brightness  of  thy  ^ky  enshroud, 
And  may,  Oh !  may  it  e'er  be  thine 
To  kneel  at  Liberty's  and  Virtue's  shrine. 
Here  heathful  Labor  spreads  her  ample  store, 
That  honest  Industry  need  ne'er  be  poor. 
Here  bright-eyed  Science  and  all-busy  Art 
Will  find  their  worthy  meed — a  ready  mart— 
Her  heathful  climate  and  her  generous  soil 
Repay  the  husbandman's  laborious  toil  ; 
Her  Eastern  cities'  work  of  busy  hands, 
The  wealth  of  the  community  expands, 
Her  whiten'd  sails  wide- spreading  to  the  breeze, 
Bring  home  the  products  of  the  distant  seas, 
To  favored  sons  of  luxury  and  ease ; 
Thus  silken  fabrics  curiously  wrought, 
From  Eastern  India's  swarthy  shores  are  brought, 
And  from  the  land  of  sempiternal  Spring 
Her  vessels  odoriferous  spices  bring  ; 
Thus  did  the  ships  of  her  prolific  shores 
Into  the  lap  of  Commerce  pour  their  stores ; 
Thus  did  Prosperity  her  country  woo, 
Which,  in  Arts,  Wealth  and  Science,  proudly  grew, 
Her  rise  so  rapid,  such  applause  she  drew, 


The  Fatt  of  Fart  Sumpter. 

That  older  nations  wonder'd  at  the  view ; 

Her  cities  fabled  history  outvied 

Of  Arts  and  Science  in  the  rapid  stride. 

The  plan  matured  on  which  her  genius  laid 

Her  broad  foundation  and  her  liberal  trade  ; 

All  men,  as  brothers,  welcomed  to  her  shore, 

Who  love  mankind  and  who  their  God  adore  ; 

The  outcast  Patriot  and  the  exiled  King 

May  rest  beneath  her  Eagle's  sheltering  wing. 

She  the  last  link  of  bondage  lately  broke. 

When  the  slave  groaned  beneath  the  galling  yoke, 

When  Superstition's  foot  shall  touch  her  talismanic  shore, 

His  rankling  shackles  fell  and  he  is  slave  no  more. 

Last,  though  not  least,  throughout  her  broadcast  land, 

She  rears  her  temples  for  her  infant  band, 

Modest  in  look,  not  formed  for  pride  or  show, 

Built  to  help  her  tender  plants  to  grow  ; 

For  all  these  favors,  bounteously  given, 

Hymns  redolent  of  praise  ascended  heaven  ; 

But  as  no  human  knowledge  e'er  can  bind 

The  uncertain  veerings  of  the  fickle  wind, 

So  can  no  mortal  e'er  presume  to  know 

The  coming  morrow's  weight  of  weal  or  woe  : 

Thus,  as  in  Heaven,  erst  foul  Rebellion  rose, 

Passions  malignant  impious  rage  disclose, 

So  Earth,  most  favored,  less  content  contain, 

Nor  over  all  do  Truth  and  Virtue  reign, 

But  scowl-eyed  Treason  and  her  impious  band, 

With  rage  demoniac,  tried  to  subvert  the  land, 

A  deed  so  monstrous  and  so  foul  a  blast 


Tlie  Fall  of  Fort  Sumpter. 

On  History's  page  made  Nature  stand  aghast ; 
Benignant  Nature  at  the  aspect  frown'd, 
In  dismal  darkness  draped  the  scene  around, 
As  mothers  fondly  o'er  their  infants  close 
The  sable  curtain  to  invite  repose. 
Grim  is  the  picture  when  embitter'd  strife 
Gluts  with  another's  blood  the  reeking  knife, 
When  different  nations,  in  discordant  jar, 
Conflicting  troops  oppose  in  hostile  war  ; 
But  when  by  brother  brother's  life  is  sought, 
The  blood  encurdles  at  the  dreadful  thought. 
Fain  would  I  drop  the  curtain  o'er  the  scene, 
Or  interpose  apology  between. 
How  oft  we  mortals  give  an  honor'd  name 
Where  Christianity  would  blush  for  shame ! 
'Tis  sad  to  think  how  oft  the  slightest  flaw 
Will  cause  a  nation  to  engage  in  war. 
When  passion  leads  we  argue  wrong  is  right, 
And  each  prepares  to  organize  the  fight, 
To  wounded  honor  claim  the  battle  due, 
And  each  with  equal  rancor  each  pursue. 
The  madd'ning  wine-cup  or  the  bigot's  hate, 
Foul  Envy  or  Revenge  insatiate, 
Relentless  Rage,  malicious-hearted  Spite, 
The  blood  may  seethe  and  cruel  deeds  incite. 
Such  spurious  courage,  when  the  deed  is  done, 
Will  wilt  as  herblets  in  the  morning  sun  ; 
But  genuine  courage  such  base  means  refuse  ; 
Then  sing  his  praise  aloud,  admiring  Muse  ! 
Who,  in  a  noble  cause,  so  nobly  stood  ; 

15 


The  Fatt  of  Fort  Sumpter. 

True  courage  dwells  but  with  the  just  and  good. 

At  Major  Anderson's  heroic  name 

A  nation's  breast  should  glow  with  generous  flame. 

His  courage,  such  as  heaven  alone  supplies, 

All  human  power,  all  human  force  defies. 

Below  the  golden  west  had  gone  the  sun, 

The  weary  lab'rer's  toilsome  work  was  done. 

Silence  and  darkness  their  mild  vigils  keep, 

Quiescent  Nature  woo'd  the  world  to  sleep. 

The  silent  air,  the  stillness  of  the  ocean, 

Might  soothe  the  pensive  soul  to  calm  devotion, 

And  seem  to  speak,  (as  the  Creator's  will), 

To  seas  and  human  passions,   "Peace !    Be  still !  " 

Happy  had  man  obeyed  the  just  decree, 

And,  with  due  reverence,  bent  the  suppliant  knee. 

'Twere  easier  to  roll  back  the  ocean's  tide 

Than  stem  the  impetuous  course  of  human  pride. 

Eight  bells  proclaim'd  the  hour.     No  ripple  stirr'd 

The  bosom  of  the  deep.     No  sound  was  heard. 

But  soon,  how  changed  !     Ere  thirty  minutes  passed, 

The  booming  cannon  with  its  deaf'ning  blast, 

Awoke  the  slumb'rers  from  their  soft  repose, 

And  lurid  glare  around  the  scenery  throws. 

A  pause  ensued,  as  if  the  conscious  thought 

(Reflecting)  grieved  the  mischief  she  had  wrought  ; 

Such  might,  sweet  Charity,  be  thine  apppeal ; 

No  such  regret  such  miscreants  ever  feel, 

But,  lost  to  all  that's  generous,  good  or  great, 

Would  sap  a  nation  for  a  small  estate. 

Now,  with  redoubled  fury,  near  and  far, 

16 


TJie  Fall  of  Fort  Sumpter. 

Gleamed  the  artillery  of  tumultuous  war, 
That,  like  volcanoes  from  the  upliftedjsea, 
The  explosive  blasts  appear  that  rend  the  air  ; 
As  though  Creation's  vault  wide  opened  there. 
Their  furious  verberations  rock  the  shore  ; 
With  ghastly  flashing  and  tumultuous  roar, 
A  ponderous  avalanche  of  bursting  shell 
Against  the.  liberty-devoted  fortress  fell. 
'Twas  thus  without.    The  fortress  wall  within, 
The  heroic  band  their  morning  meal  begin, 
As  if  preparing  for  a  grand  parade  ; 
They  leisurely  repast,  and  then  obey'd 
Their  valiant  chief  ;  and  thus  his  orders  ran  : 
"In  quick  succession  answer  gun  for  gun  !" 
Resembling  a  continuous  clap  of  thunder, 
As  if  the  very  earth  were  riven  asunder, 
The  gallant  band,  although  in  number  few, 
Were,  every  soul  a  hero,  tried  and  true  ; 
Soon  finding  that  their  cartridges  were  spent, 
As  an  expedient  their  sleeves  they  rent. 
Their  midday  meal  at  noon  they  took, 
Yet  not  one  man  his  post  forsook, 
But,  each  one,  standing  by  his  gun, 
His  scanty  dinner  thus  begun, 
The  last  hard  biscuit  and  salt  pork, 
And  calmly  then  resumed  their  work. 
So  kept  they  on  till  night  came  round, 
When  wearied  Nature  comfort  found, 
In  the  calm  slumber  Duty  knows 
In  midst  of  dangers,  death  and  foes. 


The  Fall  of  Fort  Sumpter. 

The  morning  breaks  ;  now  see  within, 

Unruffled  by  the  cannons'  din, 

In  spirit  unsubdued  and  undismay'd, 

True,  noble-hearted  courage  there  display'd 

'Mid  fire  and  smoke  and  smoth'ring  smell, 

And  bolts  and  balls  and  show'ring  shell, 

(Now  ent'ring  in,  in  fitful  gust) 

Explosive  coals  and  cinder- dust ; 

The  conflagration  fore  and  aft, 

In  spiral  columns  skyward  waft ; 

Yet  did  that  band,  that  valiant  band, 

True  heroes,  nobly,  proudly  stand  ; 

Could  human  power  such  force  combined  withstand  ? 

To  human  force  must  yield  the  work  of  human  hand  ; 

Strong  walls  must  crumble,  stubborn  stone  must  yield  ; 

The  oft-repeated  blows  at  last  revealed 

A  breach,  and  in  that  embrasure 

One,  bearing  flag  of  truce,  appear'd  and  said  : 

' '  Why  madly  rush  into  the  arms  of  death  ? 

Your  bravery  deserves  exalted  praise, 

Which  we  accord  you  with  the  greatest  pleasure  ; 

But  all  things  have  a  limited  duration  ; 

It  were  impossible  to  hold  out  longer, 

If  e'en  your  armaments  were  ten  times  stronger  ; 

My  General  sends  his  compliments  ;  you'll  state 

The  terms  on  which  you  will  capitulate  ;  " 

Now,  Major  Anderson  was  of  that  sort 

Whose  actions  synchronize  his  thought ; 

He  there  in  pride  of  manhood  firmly  stood, 

Above  the  wreck  of  matter  vile  and  rude. 

18 


The  Fall  of  Fort  Sumpter. 

A  man,  indeed,  was  he :  for,  that  name 

The  titles  "Patriot,"  "Christian,"  "Hero"  claim; 

A  trusty  soldier  in  his  country's  cause, 

A  firm  defender  of  her  rights  and  laws  ; 

' '  But  two  days  since,  your  General  heard 

My  terms.     I  go  not  now  behind  my  word  ; 

Whether  or  death  or  danger,  wounds  or  scars. 

I  do  insist  upon  the  Stripes  and  Stars  ; 

And  from  these  terms  before  I'll  falter, 

I'll  spill  my  life's  blood  on  my  country's  altar." 


Boiled  Boots;  or,  The  Sportsman's  Pride. 


"  A  little  nonsense  now  and  then, 
Is  relished  by  the  wisest  men." 


That  sense  is  senss  you  must  allow, 
When'ere  the  sense  is— SOUND  ! 
And  where's  the  man  that  dare  affirm, 
That  nonsense  is  not—  sound  ! ! 
And  here  an  argument  I'll  raise : 
Where  nonsense  doth  abound, 
If  you  withhold  all  other  praise, 
You  must  admit  'tis  sound !  !  ! 


Boiled  Boots  ;    or  The  Sportsman's  Pride. 


'LL  tell  you  of  a  certain  man, 

('Tis  since  this  century  began). 
It  happened  that  this  sorry  wight, 
Was  footman  to  a  certain  knight ; 
This  knight  (I  know  the  story's  true) 

Was  Sir  John  F ,  as  I  tell  you  ; 

Sir  John,  in  hunting  pleasure  found, 
In  scamp'ring  briskly  o'er  the  ground  ; 
With  boots  and  spur,  and  bit  and  bridle, 
He,  in  the  chase,  was  never  idle. 
As  Sir  John  dress'd  in  Fashion's  height, 
His  boots  must  certainly  shine  bright. 
So,  of  Sam's  duties  'twas  a  part, 
In  polishing,  to  show  his  art. 


Boiled  Boots;  or,  The  Sportsman's  Pride. 

One  evening,  Sam,  as  he  ought, 

The  bootjack  to  his  master  brought ; 

With  boots  in  hand,  away  he  went, 

On  his  next  duty  then  intent. 

Some  things  we  do,  so  prompt's  the  act, 

The  mind  seems  not  to  note  the  fact. 

An  instance  this  :  Sam,  in  his  haste, 

The  boots  upon  the  copper  placed. 

It  so  occurr'd  that,  the  next  morn, 

The  maiden  rose  before  the  dawn, 

The  reason  why,  I  here  will  say  : 

It  happened  to  be  washing  day, 

And  as  the  maiden  raised  the  lid, 

The  boots  into  the  copper  slid. 

Sam  soon  arose,  with  calm  composure, 

Not  dreaming  of  the  day's  disclosure  ; 

His  duty  first  the  horse  to  groom, 

And  clean  the  stall  with  fork  and  broom, 

And  then,  with  brush  and  blacking, 

He  sought  the  boots,  but  they  were  lacking  ; 

He  paced  the  scull'ry  round  and  round, 

And  yet  could  not  the  boots  be  found. 

"Where  are  the  boots  ?  "  he  oft  repeated, 

But  no  response  his  audist  greeted. 

While  thus  employed  he  heard  a  shout, 

And  ran  to  see  what  'twas  about ; 

Soon  as  the  maiden  stirr'd  the  clothes 

Quickly  a  queer  quidest  arose  ; 

Sam  little  time  could  spare  to  wait 

And  of  its  nature  judicate. 


Boiled  Boots;  or,  The  Sportsman's  Prid«. 

What  color  'twas  'twere  hard  to  say, 

If  grayish  brown  or  brownish  gray  ; 

If  shape  belonged  to  such  a  being, 

It  only  could  be  known  by  seeing  ; 

It  surely  seem'd  to  bid  defiance 

To  laws  of  mathematic  science  ; 

To  worship  it  no  prohibition 

Was  found  on  decalogne  condition. 

'Twas  long  since  Sam  believed  in  witches, 

That  words  could  be  transform'd  to  riches, 

If  by  a  sprite  or  fairy  uttered, 

Or  by  a  muzzled  monkey  mutter'd, 

That  boots  could  through  a  key- hole  creep, 

And  stray  from  home  while  good  folks  sleep 

80,  stole  they  were  was  his  conclusion, 

Or  lost,  which  caused  him  great  confusion. 

Concluding  it  a  fruitless  chase, 

Sam  now  had  given  up  the  race  ; 

While  thus  perplexed  in  rumination, 

He  heard  a  boisterous  exclamation  ; 

The  cause  of  this  omniferous  sound, 

Another  quidest  had  they  found. 

Enslaved  by  Superstition's  chain, 

To  terror  Reason  yields  the  rein. 

Submit  one  sense  to  terror's  sway, 

The  others  passively  obey  ; 

She  has  the  rising  bubble  broke, 

Declared  the  heteropodos  spoke. 

Sam  followed  in  the  sound's  direction, 

Resolved  to  make  a  close  inspection. 


Boiled  Boots;  or,  The  Sportsman's  Pride. 

Now,  as  the  Koman  poet  sings, 
Fear  once  to  boots  appended  wings ; 
Had  he  been  there  upon  that  day, 
He  might  averted  much  dismay. 
Sam  went,  he  saw  and  asked  the  maid, 
Who  all  her  rhetoric  displayed — 
With  blanched  lips  and  features  pale, 
Told  at  full  length  her  doleful  tale, 
With  long  words  of  exhausted  sense, 
In  multiverbal  eloquence. 
Sam  might  have  laughed  if  not  oppress'd 
But  too  much  grief  upon  his  breast. 
The  solemn  footman  bent  his  head  ; 
Some  minutes  passed ;  no  words  he  said  ; 
Then,  as  if  from  a  dream  just  woke, 
With  languid  lips  these  few  words  spoke, 
In  hollow  words  of  deep  despair, 
"  'Tis  Sir  John's  boots,  I  do  declare." 
Sam,  now  in  awful  trepidation, 
(Fearing  he'd  lose  his  situation) 
Knowing  the  lady's  tender  heart, 
He  would  to  her  his  woes  impart, 
Or  else  (pardon  the  digression), 
He'd  read  of  Eve  and  learnt  a  lesson  ; 
So,  when  the  lady  came  down  stairs,    ' 
He  thus  began  to  explain  affaii-s  : 
With  face  of  most  lugubrious  pattern, 
As  if  he  had  been  chased  by  Satan, 
He  thus  began  bis  doleful  ditty 
In  tones  of  soul- exciting  pity  : 


Boiled  Boots;  or,  TJie  Sportsman's  Pride. 

"  Your  ladyship,  I've  lived  with  you 

And,  as  a  footman,  served  you  true," 

Was  present  \vhen  you  were  united, 

Lived  with  you  when  Sir  John  was  knighted, 

Bewailing  now  my  sad  estate, 

I'd  ask  of  you  a  favor  great ; " 
' '  Well,  Sam,  don't  be  afraid  to  say — 

I've  guessed  it  long,  so,  don't  delay  ; 

The  prompt  attentions  you  have  paid 

To  Sal,  the  pretty  chamber-maid, 

Although  Sir  John  and  I,  I  know, 

Would  sorry  be  for  you  to  go, 

But.  as  you  both  have  so  agreed, 

For  my  part  I  will  not  impede, 

But  will  a  friendly  present  make, 

And  fruit  provide  for  wedding-cake. " 
"Sorrow  and  grief  besiege  my  heart, 

And  leave  not  room  for  Cupid's  dart ; 

Love's  empire  claims  the  sole  domain— 

No  other  can  admittance  gain  ; 

The  troubles  that  assail  my  heart 

Are  quite  remote  from  Cupid's  dart ; 

Last  night  I  calmly  went  to  rest ; 

No  cares  or  grief  my  heart  oppress' d, 

In  peaceful  slumber  pass'd  the  night, 

And  gladly  hail'd  the  morning's  light, 

But  now  the  issues  of  the  fall 

O'erpower  my  senses  like  a  pall. " 
"Why,  Sam!  you  were  not  there,  you  know — 

How  could  it  then  affect  you  so  ?  " 

24 


Bailed  Boots;  or,  Tfte  Sportsman's 


"Oh,  yes  !  your  ladyship  ;  had  I  been  there, 
I'd  have  prevented  all  this  sad  affair  ; 
When  I  this  morn  the  earliest  dawn  beheld. 
Had  I  arose  this  trouble  I'd  dispell'd. 
I  quake  with  horror  at  the  very  sound  ; 
My  master's  boots  were  in  the  boiler  found. 
Madam's  reflections  on  the  footman's  speech  :— 
(Minds,  when  disordered,  Reason  oven-each) 
Yet  there  seems  something  of  more  recent  date, 
As  intermingling  in  the  poor  man's  pate  — 
By  which  she  gets  an  inkling  of  the  truth. 
And,  tender-hearted,  tries  his  grief  to  soothe. 

'  '  Now,  Sam,  explain  to  me,  so  I  see  clear  — 
So  I'll  present  it  to  my  husband's  ear  ; 
You  say,  I  understand,  the  boots  were  drown'd  ; 
But,  has  not  yet  the  coroner  b  ?eu  found? 
But,  as  1  read,  they  sit  upon  the  body,  not  the  sole 
Over  the  latter  they  have  not  control  ; 
Now,  Sam,  you  don't  seem  well,  go  take  your  ease, 
And  I  will  try  his  anger  to  appease  ; 
Bid  Sue  directly  take  the  best  tureen, 
And  let  the  boots  be  nicely  placed  therein  ; 
When  Sir  John  at  the  table  takes  his  seat, 
In  due  accordance  with  so  rare  a  treat  ; 
With  gravity  of  face  and  due  decorum, 
Place  the  tureen  immediately  before  him.  " 
Now,  Sue  was  such  a  merry-hearted  soul, 
'Twas  hard  her  facial  muscles  to  control  ; 
And,  as  she  left  the  grinning  kitchen-folks 
'Midst  peals  of  laughter  and  hilarious  jokes, 


Boiled  Boots;  or,  The  Sportsman's  Pride. 

(If  anything  than  measles  is 

More  catching  by  contagion, 

It  surely  is,  you  must  admit, 

A  fit  of  cachinnation), 

So.  Nature  being  overtax'd, 

The  muscles  of  her  face  relax'd. 
"  Now  let  the  breakfast  be  brought  in, 

'Tis  time,  I  think,  we  should  begin  ; 

Your  knife,  perhaps,  you'll  need  to  whet ; 

The  steel  is  there,  now  don't  forget ;" 

Ou  saying  this,  she  shamm'd  a  cough, 

In  hope  to  smother  up  a  laugh  ; 
"  Sir  John,  you've  often  banter'd  me 

On  the  time  I  take  to  dress  ; 

And  that  it  takes  some  time,  of  course, 

I'm  willing  to  confess  ; 

You  do  not  wish  your  loving  wife 

As  a  dowdy  to  appear, 

To  be  of  every  one  the  butt, 

And  of  all  the  town  the  jeer. 

Where  then  would  be  your  compliments, 

So  dainty  and  so  rare 

As  when  you  on  your  pony  ride 

With  such  a  jaunty  air  ? 

But  I  will  fifty  guineas  bet, 

And  put  the  money  down, 

That  I  mil  dress  from  head  to  foot, 

And  every  garment  don. 

Before  you  can  (though  smart  you  are), 

Your  hunting  boots  put  on  ; 


Boiled  Boots;  or,  TJie  Sportsman's  Pride. 

"  Well,  Madam,  if  that  is  your  whim, 

Eesolved  to  be  so  rash, 

I  certainly  shall  not  object 

To  pocketing  the  cash. " 
•'  Done  !"  said  the  Lady,  "there  they  are  : 

Just  take  them  out  and  try  ; 

Perhaps  you'd  better  wait  a  while 

And  give  them  time  to  dry. 

Besides  if  you  should  try  them  now, 

No  doubt  they  might  be  tight, 

And  then,  of  course,  the  work  indeed, 

You'd  find,  would  not  be  light ; 
' '  My  boots !     Now,  really  !  are  they  ? — 

Or  is  all  this  but  idle  play  ? 

If  so,  (according  to  my  mind,) 

He'll  find  it  an  expensive  kind  ; 

He  shall  (of  course  'tis  Sam  I  mean) 

No  longer  in  my  house  be  seen  : 

For,  no  such  lazy,  careless  hound 

Must  on  my  premises  be  found. " 
' '  Sir  John,  I've  pleasant  news  to  tell  : 

The  Post— you  just  now  heard  the  bell— 

The  Newspaper— just  fresh  from  town  — 

His  Lordship  soon  is  coming  down  ; 

His  eldest  son  is  now  of  'age. 

As  country  sports  are  all  the  rage, 

A  race  upon  a  scale  much  higher 

Than  ever  known  within  the  shire  ; 

And  there's  no  doubt  that  in  the  race 

Your  steed  will  take  the  highest  place. 
37 


Boiled  Bolts;  or,  The  Sportsman's  Pride. 

Through  all  the  county  'tis  confessed 
Your  stud  and  kennel  are  the  best, 
Your  hounds  sagacious,  fiery  steed, 
His  Lordship's  even  far  exceed." 
'For  horse  that  suits  me,  brown  or  gray, 
I'm  willing  a  round  price  to  pay. 
Some  slowly  barter  for  a  groat, 
The  bargain's  by  another  bought ; 
In  such  a  case  I  have  no  play, 
But  purchase  make  without  delay, 
And  without  grudge  the  money  pay. 
My  liberality  is  known, 
So  by  that  means  the  best  I  own  ; 
Now  that  procedure  (you'll  agree) 
To  have  the  best  entitles  me." 
"You're  surely  lavish  in  the  matter, 
That  some  have  said,   '  You  money  scatter. 
All  this  I  certainly  admit, 
But  a  short  question  I'll  submit  : 
Your  cash  would  not  be  well  expended 
If,  after,  they  were  ill-attended  ; 
Perhaps  you'll  find,  on  due  reflection, 
Not  cause  enough  for  Sam's  rejection. 
Now,  think  awhile  upon  your  plan  ; 
Find  (if  you  can)  a  better ^man. 
He's  honest,  faithful,  upright,  true, 
This  praise  to  him  is  justly  due  ; 
And,  more— his  place  to  fitly  suit — 
His  kindness  he  extends  to  brute. " 
The  Lady  paused  :  A  milder  grace 


Boiled  Pools;  or,  TJie  Sportsman's  Pride. 

Eelaxed  the  muscles  of  his  face  : 
"  The  praise  that  has  been  paid  to  you, 
By  truest  right  to  Sam  is  due  ; 
Your  Ladyship  makes  things  so  plain, 
I  certainly  will  Sam  retain  ; 
I'll  see  the  Doctor  on  my  way, 
And  bid  him  due  attention  pay, 
But,  first  of  all,  before  I  go, 
I'd  of  Sam's  obvious  symptons  know  : 
Though  to  nosology  a  stranger, 
I  do  not  think  his  life  in  danger  ; 
His  mind  showed  symptoms  evident  obvious  and 

erratic, 

His  body  is  beyond  a  doubt  inclined  towards  room- 
attic  ; 

Perhaps  a  little  rest  and  treatment  kind 
Will  soothe  the  trouble  of  his  mind, 
I  hope  his  malady  will  be  of  short  duration, 
And  vigor  leave  to  fill  his  situation." 


Benevolent  Institution*. 


Our    Benevolent    Institutions    the    Best 
Nurseries   of  Religion. 

WHEREVER  we  cast  our  eye,  or  direct  our  sense, 
we  find  displayed  before  us  in  characters  so 
forcible,  as  to  prohibit  either  our  denial  or  disre 
gard  of  the  mutability  of  all  terrestrial  objects.  As  the 
passing  cloud  reflected  on  the  undulating  bosom  of  the 
rippled  wave,  so  are  the  phenomena  which  continually 
meet  us  in  our  daily  observation.  As  the  robust  and 
sturdy  oak  of  the  present  is  but  the  progeny  of  the  pigmy 
acorn,  so  is  it  typical  of  that  universal  law  that  pervades 
all  created  objects.  The  plant  having  vegetated  its 
destined  course,  is  mostly  contributory  to  the  benefit  of 
man  in  administering  to  his  necessities  or  his  happiness. 
Amidst  this  universal  progress  shall  man  alone  remain 
inactive  ?  Alas !  how  many  or  how  few  of  us  after  our 
earthly  pilgrimage  will  leave  the  mere  shadow  of  a  mark 
of  having  lived  to  any  useful  purpose  to  our  fellowman. 
Man,  like  an  amphibious  animal,  may  be  said  to  partake 
of  two  natures  iu  many  respects  opposite  to  each  other. 
Perhaps  the  greatest  mistake  of  mankind  is  their  prone- 
ness  to  overestimate  the  importance  of  the  body  to  that 
nobler  nature,  the  mind.  This  illusion  may  be  partly 
accounted  for  by  the  fact  that,  as  the  body  requires  con 
stant  exertion  for  its  necessities  it  engrosses  too  large  a 
portion  of  our  thoughts,  thus  binding  us  to  the  fact  to 
which  I  have  adverted.  A  little  reflection  will  satisfy 


Benevolent  Institutions. 

most  persons  that  something  is  necessary  to  act  as  a  cor 
rective  or  counterpoise  to  such  delusion.  The  preacher 
will  point  with  bold  confidence  to  the  sacred  edifices 
dedicated  to  the  sublime  purpose  of  the  worship  of  the 
Great  and  Beneficent  Hector  of  the  Universe. 

That  such  should  be  sufficient  I  do  not  deny  ;  but  if  we 
take  men  as  they  are,  considering  the  extreme  degree  of 
zealous  devotion  worthy  of  the  true  worshipper,  how  few 
can  leave  the  temple  of  the  Deity  without  a  sense  of  their 
unfitness^to  have  entered  the  sacred  edifice,  or  a  sense  of 
shame  from  the  consciousness  of  their  imperfect  devotions. 

If  I  judge  harshly  of  others,  it  is  from  my  own  self 
condemnation.  The  question  then  arises,  how  shall  we 
be  prepared  for  the  proper  exercise  of  that  important 
duty  ?  When  we  consider  in  the  present  state  of  man, 
the  conflicting  circumstances  by  which  he  is  surrounded, 
the  mercenary  spirit  of  commerce,  the  enthralling  and 
imperious  demands  of  labor  are  so  many  militations 
against  the  moral  amenities  that  characterize  the  man  of 
benevolence  and  the  true  Christian. 

Opposed  to  the  gradual  advancement  that  prevails  in 
all  other  departments  is  the  belief  entertained  by  some, 
that  they  can  vault,  as  it  were,  by  a  single  bound,  from  the 
depths  of  depravity  into  the  precincts  of  Heaven. 

The  proper  counterpoise,  I  believe,  will  be  found  in 
those  associations  which  inculcate  the  exercise  of  the 
virtue  of  Benevolence,  which  may  be  justly  called  the 
twin  sister  of  Religion.  Whatever  tends  to  link  the 
duties  that  spring  from  Religion  with  the  every  day 
business  of  life  is  beyond  all  earthly  value.  What  can 

32 


Benevolent  Institution*. 

more  exalt  the  human  character  than  the  exercise  of  a 
benevolent  spirit  ?  As  in  the  company  of  the  wicked, 
vicious  propensities  are  strengthened  and  encouraged, 
so  in  the  society  of  a  moral  community,  the  moral  facul 
ties  are  invigorated  and  supported.  To  meet  at  stated 
periods  to  carry  out  practically  the  heavenly  virtue  of 
retrieving  a  fellow-being  from  the  slavish  chains  of  a 
degrading  passion,  of  breaking  asunder  the  fetters  that 
bind  with  unyielding  despotism  the  mind  and  body  of 
its  victim  to  be  engaged  in  such  an  enterprise,  must  en 
list  the  noblest  sentiments  and  carry  us  above  the  sel 
fishness  of  our  ordinary  avocations.  The  strict  perfor 
mance  of  duty  calls  for  a  daily  sacrifice  of  selfish  desires, 
whilst  the  consciousness  of  the  fulfilment  of  duty  carries 
with  it  so  pleasing  a  gratification,  it  might  be  thought 
strange  that  after  experiencing  its  delight,  we  should 
fail  to  be  constantly  engaged  in  its  practice.  The  truly 
moral  would  avoid  doing  anything  to  annoy  another. 
Such  a  principle  would  tend  to  harmonize  the  human 
family  by  a  strict  adherence  to  the  laws  that  should  re 
gulate  our  intercourse  with  each  other.  The  nobility  of 
such  a  character  may  be  shown  by  contrasting  it  with  the 
opposite.  It  is  pleasing  to  reflect  that  few  are  so  lost  to 
a  proper  sense  of  what  is  due  to  their  fellowbeings  as 
singly  to  disturb  the  harmony  of  the  meeting,  but  when 
two  or  three  kindred  spirits  are  present  they  are  bold  in 
their  disturbance  and  annoyance.  The  moral  sense  of 
the  community  and  the  respect  which  the  good  always 
entertain  for  the  fair  sex,  is  generally  sufficient  to  pre 
serve  a  due  decorum  in  their  presence.  The  whispers 


Benevolent  Institution*. 

•of  conscience  may  be  likened  to  a  silken  thread  of  subt 
lest  fibre,  inviting  us  to  Heaven,  whilst  the  human 
passions  may  be  compared  to  cords  of  triple  strand  to 
drag  us  hell  ward.  Religion  without  morality,  love  of 
God  and  indifference  to  the  welfare  of  our  fellowman,  is 
a  shadow  without  a  substance,  or  a  dismasted  vessel 
without  rudder  or  compass,  drifting  into  the  gulfs  of 
'bigotry  and  superstition.  Although  morality  is  not  the 
fulness  of  religion,  the  cultivation  of  it  may  be  regarded 
as  the  surest  and  safest  introduction  to  it.  To  be  associ 
ated  with  a  brotherhood  whose  object  is  to  raise  the 
fallen,  to  strengthen  and  encourage  the  weak  in  extricat 
ing  them  from  the  despolic  toils  of  an  infatuated  passion, 
to  sympathize  with  the  afflicted  and  exult  at  the  cheering 
progress  of  the  subjugation  of  vicious  temptations,  can 
not  fail  to  be  morally  profitable  to  all  engaged  therein. 
It  is  my  belief  if  ever  that  blissful  period  shall  come  on 
earth,  that  man  will  be  actuated  solely  by  principles  of 
benevolence  and  virtue,  it  will  be  mainly  attributable 
to  such  an  association  as  that  to  which  we  have  had  the 
honor  to  enrol  our  names. 

Let  us  ever  bear  in  mind  and  cherish  the  principles  of 
our  order  and  be  steadfast  in  the  observance  of  Philan 
thropy,  Fidelity  and  Purity. 

As  the  valiant  soldier  shrinks  not  from  his  duties,  but 
performs  them  with  the  zealous  alacrity  that  springs 
from  a  true  devotion  to  his  country's  welfare,  so  should 
he  who  engages  in  a  moral  undertaking  be  true  to  the 
obligations  he  has  voluntarily  assumed. 

There  will  always  be  persons  who,  from  ignorance  or 

34 


Benewtent  Institutions. 

interest,  are  ever  ready  to  oppose  every  undertaking  and 
frequently  without  condescending  to  inform  themselves 
fully  of  its  nature  and  objt-cts,  whilst  some  will  deny 
any  institution  from  the  mere  circumstance  of  some  in 
cidental  accompaniment,  which  excites  their  prejudice. 
It  is  not  always  the  best  policy  to  waste  time  by  engag 
ing  to  prove  that  which  your  conscience  fully  endorses  to 
those  who  are  predetermined  not  to  be  convinced. 


ON  ascending  a  mountain,  the  greater  the  height, 
The  broader  the  prospect  displayed  to  the  sight, 
And  the  pathway  of  science  as  we  journey  through, 
The  workshop  of  nature  spread  out  to  our  view, 
Lights  the  summer  of  youth  with  the  rays  from  its  page, 
And  tempers  serenely  the  Winter  of  age. 


The  Infidel  Rebuked. 


The   Infidel    Rebuked. 

TRIFLES,  trifles  have  no  place, 
On  creation's  genial  face, 
Every  atom  iu  the  air, 
Has  its  destined  duty  there  ; 
The  zephyr  fans  the  fever'd  cheek, 
Renews  with  vigorous  strength  the  weak, 
Gives  to  the  rose  its  dainty  bloom, 
The  jessamine  its  sweet  perfume  ; 
The  gentle  zephyrs  of  the  vale, 
By  aggregation  from  the  gale, 
That  safe  transports  to  our  own  shores 
The  products  of  our  neighbor's  stores, 
This  commerce  you  may  plainly  see, 
Makes  different  nations  to  agree  ; 
The  savage  thus  by  interest  mild, 
And  petty  quarrels  reconciled  ; 
Thus,  by  HIS  power,  the  favoring  breeze, 
Adds  to  our'comforts,  wealth,  and  ease. 
When  seas  are  calm  arid  skies  serene. 
The  scoffer  boldly  vents  his  spleen, 
As  crinkling  cowards  valor  show 
When  distance  shields  them  from  the  foe. 

Driven  by  the  maddening  wild  winds  sweep, 
Careening  o'er  the  vortex  deep, 


The  Infidel  Rebuked. 

To  the  terrific  thunder  sound, 

Like  school  boy's  top,  the  ship  wheels  round  and  round, 

Whose  faith  is  built  upon  the  rock, 

Stands  firm  regardless  of  the  shock  ; 

But  he  who  doth  not  God  revere, 

His  trembling  limbs  unnerved  by  fear, 

With  ashen  lips  and  fainting  breath, 

He  dreads  the  mighty  conqueror  Death  ; 

He  thus  proclaims  his  own  defeat, 

And  owns  himself  an  arrant  cheat. 


On  Friendship. 


On  Friendship. 


THERE  is  a  charm  in  friendship's  name, 
Its  birth  of  pure  celestial  flame, 
It  tastes  of  Heaven  from  whence  it  came. 

A  shield  secure  when  care  annoys  ; 
A  sacred  fount  that  never  cloys  ; 
How  pure !  how  blest  its  balmy  joys ! 

From  Heaven  it  flows  our  earth  to  bless 
In  its  unclouded  loveliness  ; 
If  ills  betide,  or  reigns  success. 

O !  may  it  all  my  powers  employ 
While  here  below  my  heart  to  buoy, 
Nor  can  Earth's  power  its  bliss  destroy. 

Till  center'd  on  my  Saviour's  breast 
Singing  hosannahs  with  the  blest, 
In  Heaven  I  seek  my  final  rest. 


On  Music. 

THERE'S  music  in  the  cloudless  sun 
As  he  gilds  the  rising  morn, 
And  in  the  store  of  boundless  wealth 
In  the  fields  of  golden  corn. 

There's  music  on  the  gorgeous  rays 

Of  the  declining  sun, 
And  in  the  laborers'  homeward  step 

When  his  daily  toil  is  done. 

There's  music  in  the  tempests  wild 

That  dash  the  billows  high, 
In  the  splendor  of  the  silver  stars 

That  sparkle  in  the  sky. 

There's  music  in  the  welcome 

That  cheers  declining  age, 
The  welcome  smiles  that  light  us  through 

Our  lonely  pilgrimage. 

But  why  do  I  endeavor — 

Fit  music  none  can  tell, 
For  countless  mercies  showered  by  Him 

"  Who  doeth  all  things  well.' 


On  Faith. 


On  Faith. 

THOUGH  sombre  clouds  obscure  the  light, 
Through  the  long  lonesome  night 
Why  should  we  in  sorrow  roam  ? 
Have  we  not  a  brighter  home  ? 
Faith  the  murky  darkness  breaks 
Faith  the  soul  from  bondage  wakes, 
And  though  the  night  be  darkness  drear 
Will  with  strenght  sustain  and  cheer, 
Piercing  through  the  lurid  gloom 
Shedding  radiance  o'er  the  tomb, 
Sweet  requite !  if  duty's  done 
In  our  heart  is  Heaven  begun. 


40 


Evening  Prayer. 


Evening    Prayer. 

LOKD,  may  the  blackness  of  the  night, 
Remind  me  of  my  dark  estate  ; 
How  dare  a  reptile,  weak,  and  blind, 
Approach  Thy  throne  supremely  great ! 

Tho'  Thou  dost  light  the  day  to  guide 

Our  steps  thro'  this  (a  thorny  way,), 
How  do  I  wander,  far  and  wide, 

And  from  Thy  holy  precepts  stray, 
Shouldst  Thou  this  night  my  soul  require, 

Nor  longer  mercy's  grace  forbear, 
How  would  despair  my  bosom  till  ; 

But,  Oh  !  Blest  Lord,  in  pity  spare ! 
Shouldst  Thou  vouchsafe  another  day  ! 

The  sight  of  wisdom  pray  impart  ; 
O,  may.  my  soul  from  Thee  receive 

Thy  grace  renewed  within  my  heart, 
When  in  the  morn  my  body  wakes, 

May  so  from  sin  my  soul  arise, 
So  spend  each  day  its  close  may  find 

In  heavenly  wisdom,  me  more  wise  ; 
When  I  resume  my  daily  clothes, 

To  deck  this  body  vile  and  mean. 
May  I  with  righteousness  be  clad, 

And  be  all  pure  and  clean  within  ; 


Pntyer. 


And  whilst  Thy  hand  my  wants  supplies, 

Before  I  plead  my  urgent  need, 
My  soul  to  Thee  for  succor  fly, 

For  only  Thou  art  great  indeed. 
Thy  Spirit  dwell  within  my  heart, 

And  guide  my  thoughts,  my  will  control, 
That  when  on  earth  I  end  my  part, 

My  name  in  Heaven  Thou  mayst  enroll  ; 
Whilst  health  prevails  and  mercy  pleads, 

(),  may  my  soul  awake  from  sin, 
And  while  the  dying  Saviour  bless, 

Remove  Thy  grace  ;  O,  Lord  !  within. 


Be  Kind  to  the  Fallen. 


Be    Kind   to  the    Fallen. 


B 


E  just  to  thy  brother, 

If  from  his  faults  thou  art  free, 
Thou  not  from  some  other ; 

Let  thy  owu  weakness  plead 
For  thy  less  favored  brother ; 

To  let  thy  own  shame 
As  a  cloak  his  to  smother  ; 
But  if  over  your  passions  you  have  the  control, 
Bless  God  for  His  guidance,  protecting  your  soul, 

But  do  I  not  mock  thee  ? 

Art  thou  free  from  ill, 
Do  thy  thoughts,  words  and  acts 

All  those  duties  fulfill  ? 

When  to  God  supreme,  prayer  is  offered  by  thee. 
Does  thy  heart  in  deep  penitence  bend  with  thy  knee  ? 

If  so,  then  how  great  is  the  debt  that  you  owe, 

To  the  great  God  above,  from  whom  all  blessings  flow, 

We  must  know  that  our  duty  \ve_fail  to  fulfill, 

If  towards  our  neighbor  we  harbor  ill  will ; 

Can  we  pray  to  our  Father,  our  sins  to  remit, 

If  we  dare,  to  his  terms,  we  refuse  to  submit. 


Human  Hopes  and  Wishes. 


On   the   Uncertainty   of   Human    Hopes 
and    Wishes. 

HARD'S  the  man  who'd  stint  the  measure, 
Of  his  neighbor's  cup  of  pleasure  ; 
He  who  adds  biit  one  drop  more, 
For  that  drop  receives  a  score. 

We  are  of  a  jovial  choir, 
And  happiness  to  all  desire  ; 
Life  is  short  and  art  is  long, 
That's  the  Roman  poet's  song. 

God's  and  nature's  laws  obeying, 
While  we're  singing,  talking,  praying. 
Hard's  the  man  who'd  stint  the  measure 
Of  his  neighbor's  cup  of  pleasure. 

Our  wishes  fan  hope's  latent  spark, 
And  fancy  feigns  a  flame  ; 
Onjpassiug  clouds  our  hopes  we  write, 
On  lake  serene  our  wish  indite. 

This  fact  we  cannot  smother, 
The  gathering  winds  the  first  disperse, 
And  'tis  alas !  no  idle  verse, 

The  ripple  mars  the  other. 


/.in fi<  on  a  Ruy. 


Lines  on   a   Rug    Made   From    Rags  Sent 
to  the  Suffolk   County    Fair. 

THIS  little  dog  wanted  to  go  to  the  Fair, 
But  like  Flora  McFlimsey  had  nothing  to  wear, 
So  looking  around  hirn  what  did  he  find, 
But  a  bundle  of  rags  for  a  carpet  designed  ; 
And  donning  them  said,  the  mark  I've  hit, 
No  tailor  could  suit  me  or  better  me  fit. 
So  much  for  my  body  ;  and  on  my  tail, 
He  would  be  a  smart  boy  who  could  hang  a  tin  pail. 


/  Know  That  My  Redeemer  Liveth. 


1    Know   That    My    Redeemer   Liveth. 

THIS  fair  -white  sheet,  how  shall  I  dare  to  blot 
Its  face  (unsullied  with  a  soil  or  spot), 
Like  virtue  pure  its  pristine  freshness  wears, 
White  as  a  lily  with  its  fair  compeers, 
But  if  perchance  I  should  defile  its  face, 
The  knife's  keen  edge  its  surface  might  replace  ; 
And  by  an  abler  pen  might  yet  appear, 
Some  beauteous  verses  to  delight  the  ear, 
The  mind  improve,  refresh  the  weary  heart, 
And  Heaven's  bright  never-fading  joys  impart. 
Not  so,  the  soul,  the  guilty  stain  of  sin, 
Not  all  the  knives,  with  blades  however  keen, 
Not  all  the  golden  treasures  earth  can  find, 
Can  cleanse  the  stains  of  the  sin-sullied  mind  ; 
But  Mercy's  interposing  ray  divine, 
Has  caused  our  darkness  with  a  light  to  shine, 
A  way  made  open  to  repentant  hearts. 
Our  God  displays,  and  freely  (asked)  imparts, 
If  sought  at  Calvary's  atoning  flood, 
In  the  redemption  of  the  Saviour's  blood. 


Lucubration. 


Lucubration. 


T 


How  many  their  short  race  have  run 
Since  the  Sun's  last  parting  ray 
Our  departed,  speeding  on  his  way  ; 
How  many  hopes  by  fate  deferred, 
How  many  in  the  Ocean  buried, 
How  many  by  false  joys  deceived, 
How  many  of  best  friends  bereaved, 
In  darkness,  many  lose  their  way. 
That  were  not  strange,  but  strange  to  say, 
'Gainst  truth  how  many  wilful  stray, 
How  many  groaning  in  their  bed, 
How  many  mourning  for  their  dead, 
How  many  of  their  stores  bereft, 
How  many  hearths  are  lonely  left, 
How  many  on  the  Ocean  tost, 
How  many  precious  souls  are  lost. 

The  clock  strikes  two,  the  stars  are  bright, 

And  shining  show  to  human  sight 

The  order  Deity  decreed, 

So  clear  that  all  mankind  may  read. 

What  eye  the  canopy  can  view, 

And  yet  withhold  the  reverence  due 

To  HIM  whose  will  the  whole  upholds, 

As  he  the  vast  expanse  beholds, 

And  while  the  boundless  space  we  span. 

47 


Lucubration. 

Think  how  diminutive  is  man, 
Perfection  reigns  in  Nature's  law, 
No  marring  by  a  single  flaw. 
All  nature's  works  their  courses  run, 
As  from  the  first  age  they  began 
Their  distinct  duty  to  fulfil  ? 
According  to  the  Almighty's  will. 
When  that  time  shall  cease  to  be, 
Is  known,  O  Lord,  alone  to  Thee. 

The  clock  strikes  three,  the  sky  is  overcast, 
A  traveler,  I  think  him,  just  now  past ; 
'Tis  by  the  watchdog's  bark  I'm  judging, 
A  traveler  on  his  journey  trudging. 

By  way  of  episode  I'd  ask, 
Who  taught  the  trusty  dog  the  useful  task 
To  guard  his  master's  goods  from  harm 
By  giving  a  tumultuous  alarm. 

The  clock  strikes  four,  the  world  still  seems  to  sleep, 
Shall  I  indulge  in  meditation  deep, 
Or  let  fantastic  fancy  hold  the  rein, 
To  the  wild  revels  of  a  sportive  brain. 
Sneer  not,  stern  critics,  that  I  own  I  wrote  ; 
Follie's  the  o'erwought  brain's  best  antidote. 

The  clock  strikes  five  ; 

And  by  the  humming  of  the  busy  hive 

48 


Lucubration. 

The  world  now  awakes, 

And  every  one  his  onward  journey  takes. 

Me  thinks  I  hear  before  I  till  the  page 

"It  harshly  grates  upon  my  pensive  ear," 

Garrulity  of  age. 

So  as  I  end,  Good  wishes  tend 

To  every  one— bitter  foe  and  trusted  friend. 


A    Riddle. 

WHY  is  an  old  man,  who  with  a  cat  plays, 
Like  a  boy  on  whose  nose  a  hot  poultice  lays  ? 
He  has  a  cat  to  please  him  (cataplasm). 


4S» 


On  tlie  Futility  of  This  Life. 


On  the   Futility  of  This   Life. 

LIFE'S  but  a  vapor— joy  a  dream, 
And  happiness  an  empty  toy  — 
A  shadow,  or  a  flitting  beam 
Chased  by  an  idle  boy ! 
A  reed  which  every  passing  breath 
May  break,  or  bruise,  a  slender  thread 
More  subtle  than  the  spider's  web, 
A  worm,  crushed  by  the  thoughtless  tread, 
An  April  day  that  changeth  soon, 
A  taper's  light  in  Summer's  noon. 
Such  is  earth's  happiness  to  those 
Who  blindly  trust  its  false  repose  ; 
But  those  who  seek  in  Truth  and  Love, 
Will  surely  find  in  realms  above  ; 
There,  only  in  its  native  glow, 
Can  happiness  unsullied  grow, 
Where  piety  and  righteous  zeal 
Is  all  its  holy  inmates  feel ; 
In  purest  love  where  glory  reigns 
In  endless,  everlasting  plains  ; 
Its  hills  are  hills  where  songs  of  praise 
To  God,  in  love  all  voices  raise, 
It's  vallies  ring  with  fervent  praise, 
Whose  clustered  hosts  unnumbered  are  ; 

50 


On  the  Futility  of  This  Life. 

Oh !  let  us  while  on  earth  we  live, 
Our  souls  to  God,  our  Maker,  give, 
As  each  his  all  to  God  resign, 
Pray,  may  this  happiness  be  mine  ! 
So  when  this  land  of  woes  and  tears, 
From  our  weak  vision  disappears, 
May  we,  by  Faith,  thro'  Jesus  rest 
In  ransomed  glory  with  the  blest ! 


51 


Tfie  Old  Man's  Apology. 


The  Old  Man's  Apology. 

SOME  think  an  old  man  should  be  solemn  and  staid, 
With  a  pcowl  as  acurb  as  a  bankrupt  in  trade  ; 
Should  never  indulge  in  a  laugh  or  a  smile, 
All  such  sort  of  foibles  should  set  him  aroile  ; 
Should  walk  as  if  bunions  encumbered  his  toes  ; 
With  a  visage  revealing  unspeakable  woes, 
So  haggard  and  toothless,  dejected,  forlorn  ; 
Sad  pity,  poor  creature,  he  ever  was  born. 
What  on  earth  is  he  good  for,  can  anyone  say  ? 
Yes,  indeed,  it's  too  plain,  just  to  stand  in  our  way. 
Says  a  bright  little  chap,  scarce  half  way  to  his  teens, 
And  to  eat  beef  and  cabbage,  bacon  and  beens, 
So  picture  they  him  without  aid  of  Daguerre, 
Do  they  think  he'll  accept  it  without  a  demurrer. 
Ye  prattlers,  I  warn  ye,  you'd  better  be  quiet, 
Lest  you  should  be  questioned  thus,  ' '  What  mean  ye  by 

it?" 

Now,  I'm  not  deputed  to  speak  for  the  rest. 
But  I  hesitate  not  for  myself  to  protest, 
But  before  I  proceed  I  am  free  in  admitting, 
That  a  serious  deportment  is  sometimes  befitting. 
That  age  should  not  indulge  in  abuse  and  invective, 
But  kindly  take  sometimes  a  view  retrospective. 
When  in  childhood  he  caper'd  and  danced  with  delight, 


Tlie  Old  Man's  Apology. 

When  the  soap  bubbles  rose  till  quite  lost  to  the  sight. 

When  the  present  time  offer'd  no  cares  to  annoy, 

And  hope  painted  the  future  in  visions  of  joy. 

Then  let  not  age  repine  o'er  the  joys  that  are  past, 

But  rejoice  when  the  younger  enjoy  their  repast. 

Teach,  by  precept,  the  young,  the  right  path  to  pursue, 

And  exemplify  virtue  in  his  conduct,  too  ; 

Teach  all  the  young  folks  to  be  candid  and  true, 

And  let  each  one,  the  bent  of  his  pleasure  pursue. 

Provided  he  always  keeps  virtue  in  sight, 

In  pursuit  of  good  deeds  may  we  all  take  delight, 

Nor  be  over-zealous  how  it  may  be  done, 

In  sober  reflection,  in  reading  or  fun, 

For  he  who  is  generous  noble  and  true, 

His  precepts,  his  actions  will  ever  shine  through  ; 

Then  why  should  not  age  join  in  the  pastimes  of  youth, 

If  with  them  be  found  innocence,  virtue  and  truth. 


SymboliGal  Tax. 


Symbolical   Tax,   or    the     King's    Dessert, 
Sitting   in    Regal   State. 


T 


HE  subject  of  my  verse  is  George  the  Third, 

A  monarch  of  whose  fame  you've  doubtless,  heard. 

As  he  in  honor  sat  upon  his  throne, 

Dreaming  allegiance  due  to  him  alone. 

On  finding  that  his  purse  was  getting  light, 

And,  exmeesse  deeming  (well  he  might). 

He,  to  replenish  it  should  have  recourse, 

As  matters  now  were  daily  getting  worse. 

And  while  his  majesty  was  angry,  waxing, 

He  vow'd  the  Colonies  he'd  try  by  taxing ; 

And  as  his  praises  were  of  late  unsung, 

A  tax  he'd  put  on  every  Rebel's  tongue. 

So  placing  all  the  letters  him  before, 

Which,  to  decide,  the  Rebels  should  ignore  ; 

And,  as  the  councilors  of  his  dominion, 

Each  in  his  turn  submitted  his  opinion. 

They  could  not  see  or  how  or  when  or  where, 

To  put  a  tax  upon  a  thing  of  air. 

No  mode,  they  thought,  could  ever  be  invented, 

Unless  a  letter  something  represented  ; 

A  lucky  thought,  for  when  they  came  to  T, 

They  solv'd  the  anxious  mystery. 

So  'twas  decided  by  the  King's  decree, 

To  tax  each  tongue  bj  its  first  letter  T  ; 

54 


Symbolical  Tax. 

And  what  was  done  we  presently  will  see. 

The  King  just  now  in  high  majestic  rage, 

To  enforce  the  tax  sent  a  General  Gage ; 

He  also  sent  another  General,   "Howe," 

To  humble  Rebels  he  would  quickly  show. 

But  so  mistaken  was  the  General  "  Howe," 

To  do  it  was  quite  difficult  just  now. 

So  "How"  he  did  return  without  succeeding, 

The  book  will  tell  you  (it  is  worth  the  reading). 

The  King  on  welcoming  his  quick  returning, 

And  self-complacent  of  his  keen  discerning. 

Just  as  did  I  and  as  might  any  know, 

It  only  did  require  the  guns  to  show. 

You  must  have  very  much  enjoy'd  the  fun, 

To  see  the  scamp'ring  Kebels  frighten'd  run. 

So  quick  talk'd  he  and  so  complacent  grin, 

Howe  (though  he  tried)  could  not  a  word  put  in. 

For  did  his  majesty  so  wildly  ramble, 

In  fancy  seeing  all  the  Rebels  scramble ; 

Now,  General,  tell  me  all  you  know  about, 

Forgetting,  when  he  tried,  he  put  him  out. 

And,  General,  let  me  hear  you  speak  out  plain, 

How  many  of  the  Rebels  did  remain. 

When  you  the  field  had  left  was  there  a  score  ? 

Perhaps,  or  possibly  one  or  two  more. 

Well  done,  dear  General,  you  shall  be  Sir  Knight, 

Pleas'd  how  so  quick  you've  set  the  matter  right. 

'T  will  be  but  a  short  time  before  we  dine, 

In  the  meantime  we'll  take  a  glass  of  wine. 

The  King  a  pinch  of  lundy-foot  now  took, 

55 


Symbolical  Tax. 

Howe  taking  prompt  advantage  of  his  luck 
And  growing  very  anxious  to  explain 
The  matter  to  his  Sire's  bemuddled  brain, 
Once  more  he  tried  ;  but  ah  !  he  tried  in  vain. 
The  cause — his  Majesty  no  longer  there 
Had  gone,  his  dinner  toilet  to  prepare. 
On  his  return — "  Now,  General,  say  no  more. 
'T  will  serve  a  rare  dessert ;  and  not  before 
A  word  I'll  hear.     So  not  his  Sire  t'  offend, 
Thus  for  the  present  did  the  matter  end. 
How  well  the  dessert  did  the  Sovereign  relish, 
The  following  lines  the  subject  will  embellish. 

The  king  upon  the  sofa  now  reclining, 

His  head  no  clearer  for  his  ample  dining ; 

The  king  now  waved  his  hand,  which  meant  permission. 

The  details  to  explain  without  omission. 

Your  sire's  command  that  I  no  word  omit, 
Though  as  a  subject  I  scarce  deem  it  tit ; 
They  said,  they  said,  and  as  the  door  they  slammed, 
About  the  tax,  your  majesty  be  d d. 


TTie  Drunkard's  Lament. 


The   Drunkard's   Lament,  or  the   Bottle. 


A  Parody  on  Nursery  Rhymes. 


WHAT  made  me  from  my  duty  stray ? 
What  led  me  on  from  day  to  day  ? 
What  caused  too  oft  the  brutal  fray  ? 

The  Bottle. 

What  led  me  on  from  bad  to  worse  ? 
Deeper  and  deeper  in  the  course 
Of  sin's  career,  nor  felt  remorse  ? 

The  Bottle. 

Why  had  I  from  my  duty  turned  ? 
That  her  I'd  sworn  to  love  I'd  spuru'd  ? 
From  what  had  I  this  lesson  learned  ? 

The  Bottle. 

So  high  my  angry  passions  rose, 
Her  mild  words  answered  I  with  blows  ; 
What  caused  ?  (could  demon  e'er  suppose), 

The  Bottle. 

What  nerved  my  arm  to  strike  the  blow 
That  laid  my  faithful  partner  low, 
And  leer  to  see  her  life  blood  flow  ? 

The  Bottle. 

And  now  within  the  felon's  grate, 
The  murd'r's  sentence  I  await, 
Shun  ye  the  cause  of  my  sad  fate — 

The  Bottle. 

57 


On  tlie  Death. 


On  the   Death. 

THE  value  of  a  priceless  treasure, 
We  only,  by  its  loss,  can  measure. 
Death  asks  not  whom  we  best  can  spare, 

But  from  the  motley  crowd 
He  gathers  up  the  old  and  young, 
The  toil-worn  and  the  proud. 

Ever  to  human  peace  a  foe. 

He  wages  endless  strife  ; 
Severs  the  silken  cords  that  bind, 

The  mother  and  the  wife. 

These  solemn  thoughts  to  me  occurred, 
When  of  your  mother's  death  I  heard. 

When  I  recall  the  genial  smile, 

That  gladsome  eye  that  welcome  gave 

A  few  short  months  ago, 
Now  lies  within  the  silent  grave, 

'Twas  Heaven  decreed  it  so. 

It  is  the  hidden — unseen  power, 

And  not  the  hands  that  point  the  hour. 


On  t?i£  Death. 

That  unseen  power  yet  survives, 

In  its  congenial  sphere  ; 
No  sorrows,  no  corroding  cares 

Or  grief  can  enter  there. 

As  fades  the  brightness  of  the  stars, 

Upon]the  rising] sun ; 
Her  mourning  friends  their  loss  deplore, 

But  she  the  prize  has  won. 


Testium  Sat  Est. 


Testium  Sat  Est. 

THERE  are  so  many  Pills— if  all's  true  that  is  said, 
That  will  cure  all  disease,  from  the  sole  to  the  head. 
Of  every  kind  and  ev'ry  degree, 
From  the  Cholera  down  to  the  bite  of  a  flea, 
So  it's  no  use  to  tell  of  what  pills  WILL  DO, 
Because,  of  these  Cure-alls  there's  not  a  few. 
But  the  Pills  I  am  going  to  talk  about, 
I  never  pretended  would  cure  the  Gout. 
Amongst  the  ills  it's  our  lot  to  endure, 
I'll  mention  a  few  that  these  pills  will  not  CUBE. 
They'll  not  cure  a  dead  hog,  without  smoking  or  salt  : 
Nor  a  man  that  is  born  with  a  limping  halt. 
And  I'm  sorry  it's  so,  but  the  truth  must  be  said, 
They'll  not  bring  back  the  teeth  in  an  old  man's  head. 
They'll  not,  I  think,  straighten  a  man's  crooked  nose, 
Nor  cure  the  WORST  kind  of  corns  on  the  toes. 
They'll  not  help  a  man  much,  that's  just  going  to  sneeze. 
Nor  bring  back  your  hat,  blown  away  by  the  breeze  ; 
Nor  fatten  lean  horses,  without  hay  or  corn  ; 
Nor  find  a  good  husband  for  a  maiden  forlorn. 
I  don't  recommend  them  as  pleasant  to  eat ; 
To  flavor  your  salad,  or  season  your  meat. 
Now  after  this  FAIR  commendation  to  you  ; 
Just  try  them,  and  you'll  soon  know  what  they  will  do. 


Testium  Sat  Est. 

If  you  open  your  mouth  and  put  one  or  two  in, 

I'm  sure  that  they'll  fail  not  your  favor  to  win. 

Or  ask  of  the  folks  who  have  taken  the  same— 

They  all  of  them  give  them  a  very  good  name. 

After  taking  these  Pills,  as  you'll  find  yourself  better, 

You'll  no  doubt  feel  inclined  just  to  write  a  short  letter, 

In  terms  complimentary,  anxious  to  thank 

YAPHAN  K, 

Doctor  Holden,  who  recently  lived  at  Yaphank, 
Where  for  over  twenty  years  his  shingle  desplayed, 
After,   which  he,  *£&  his  residence  made, 

And  for  many  *t**$  years  more 

Although  over  m    <^f__/^ijfaL  f°ur  score, 

In  the  viDage  flK«Kn[l  of  Holbr°°k, 

He  hopes  ^rw^^        '  *o  be  found 

In  mind  and  ^sS&ffub^fS^-   in  body, 

Hale  Hearty  and  Sound. 


Lines  Written  in  a  Lady's  Album. 


Lines    Written    in   a   Lady's  Album. 

YOUE  frank  request  that  I  my  skill  should  try, 
Though  to  the  title  "  Bard  "  I  lay  no  claim, 
Yet  with  the  greatest  pleasure  I  comply, 
And,  therefore,  in  this  book  inscribe  rny  name. 

This,  as  all  earthly  objects  must  decay, 
Like  mimic  heroes  in  a  short  lived  play, 

In  Heavens  bright  portal  reigns  eternal  light, 
There  dwells  perfection  clad  in  vestments  bright. 

Light  without  shadow,  (here  a  thing  absurd), 
In  penning  it  I  fear  I've  much  incurr'd 

A  mystery  to  man,  whose  wit  is  bound, 
The  f uture  laws  philosophy  confound. 

The  worm  may  try  to  fly,  but  try  in  vain  ; 

Why,  then,  should  man  of  bounded  thought  complain  ? 
Man's  present  duty  here,  his  Maker's  will, 

With  time  and  talents  granted  to  fulfill. 

May,  (our  eyes  failing,  as  our  race  is  run) 
Our  ears  be  greeted  with  the  words  "  well  done," 

And,  after  having  left  this  world  of  strife. 
Your  name  be  written  in  the  book  of  life. 


62 


Written  for  a  Boy. 


Written   For  a  Boy  to  Speak  At  a  School 
Exhibition, 

METHINKS  I  bear  some  whisper  round, 
What  has  this  little  fellow  found, 
That  he  should  on  the  stage  appear 
Before  the  folks  assembled  here. 
But  as  I'm  here  I  think  I'll  tell 
What  once  when  younger  me  befell. 
To  see  a  top  spin  round  appeared  so  funny, 
I  said  I'd  buy  one  when  I  have  the  money. 
So  deep  the  wish  was  that  I  put,  the  fact  is, 
Before  the  week  was  out,  the  wish  in  practice. 
I  wound  the  string  around  in  such  a  fumble, 
Spin  it  I  could  not  but  could  make  it  tumble. 
At  last  outwearied  with  such  sorry  play, 
I,  quite  disheartened,  put  the  top  away. 
It  happened  soon  that  top  time  came, 
When  spinning  tops  was  all  the  game. 
There  was  a  boy  who  was  a  famous  hand, 
Farnum,  I  called  him,  from  a  foreign  land. 
Said  he,  Will,  where's  your  top,  why  don't  you  play  ? 
Then  I  replied  I'd  put  my  top  away, 
Because  it  was  no  use.,  it  would  not  play. 
Then  Faruum  quickly  answered  with  a  grin. 
I'd  like  to  see  the  top  ]  could  not  spin. 


Written  for  a  Boy. 

Hun  home  and  fetch  it  in  a  minute, 

And  then  if  it  should  prove  that  I  can't  spin  it, 

I'll  buy  your  top  as  sure  as  my  name's  Farnum, 

And  sell  it  at  a  profit  to  Friend  Barnum. 

Then  home  I  ran  with  a  hilarious  shout 

Beached  to  the  shelf  and  soon  the  top  brought  out, 

Then  he,  with  outstretched  arms  like  actor  tragic, 

Threw  down  the  top  and  lo  it  spun  like  magic, 

Then  he,  kind-hearted 

Taught  me  to  wind  the  string,  and  then  we  parted. 

Before  I  leave  the  stage  I  must  not  fail 

To  tell  the  moral  of  this  little  tale, 

Whoever  would  his  top  be  spinning, 

Must  first  take  care  to  make  a  good  beginning. 


Autobiography. 


Autobiography. 

THOUGH  I  was  there  when  I  was  born, 
I  know  not  if  'twas  night  or  morn, 
Whether  the  sun  was  shining  bright, 
Or  if  I  came  by  candlelight, 
And  as  when  I  arrived  in  town, 
I  somehow  failed  to  set  it  down  ; 
I  only  know  by  what  they  say, 
It  was  the  month  preceding  May  : 
And  by  such  mode  of  information, 
The  ninth's  my  natal  celebration  ; 
This  century  had  just  begun, 
So,  it  was  eighteen  hundred  one  ; 
'Twas  five  and  eighty  years  ago, 
When  I  came  to  this  world  of  woe, 
After  a  rather  lengthy  doze, 
Hither  I  came  without  my  clothes, 
But  as  I  was  not  unexpected, 
Some  drapery  had  been  prospected 
Which  (to  provide  'gainst  short  of  clothes), 
Was  made  to  reach  beyond  my  toes. 
My  first  seven  years  I  backward  trace 
To  Birmingham  (my  native  place) 
Scarce  three  years  of  my  life  had  past 
Ere  my  fond  mother  breathed  her  last. 
A  father  had  I  (but  no  father's  care), 


Autobiography. 

So,  furthermore  to  speak  I  must  forbear. 

"Tis  writ  in  Latin,  ' '  Of  the  dead 

Nothing  but  good  must  e'er  be  said, " 

But  who  can  see  the  camel's  track 

And  not  recall  his  humpy  back. 

Four  sisters  yet  remained  to  rear, 

My  childhood's  days  to  guide  and  cheer. 

Miss  Baker  was  the  madame's  name, 

(A  lady  little  known  to  fame) 

Cannonhill  House  presided  o'er, 

Where  of  young  ladies  a  few  score 

Were  duly  taught  from  year  to  year, 

On  learning's  stream  their  course  to  steer. 

With  Books  and  Hymns  and  meat  and  bread, 

Their  stomachs,  souls  and  brains  were  fed ; 

I  thither  with  my  sisters  went, 

On  learning,  not  on  pleasure  bent ; 

How  young  I  was  I  cannot  tell. 

But  I,  this  fact  remembered  well, 

How  young  I  was  I  cannot  tell — 

Not  clad  to  stride  o'er  dirty  ditches, 

I'd  not  yet  donned  the  manly  breeches  ; 

There  I  first  learned  to  spell  and  read, 

And  of  my  morals  take  good  heed, 

And  Watt's  hymns  recite  by  heart, 

And  Murray's  grammar  did  impart; 

By  dint  of  rule  the  conjugation 

Of  verbs  throughout  their  whole  mutation, 

Declining  nouns,  their  genders,  cases 

And  numbers  in  their  proper  places. 


Autobiography. 

Thus  my  first  seven  years  I  spent, 

And  then  to  London  City  went ; 

Christ's  Hospital  1  entered  then, 

(A  school  that's  sent  forth  some  bright  men), 

As  Lambe,  and  Coleridge,  and  some  more, 

To  name  the  whole  I'll  not  my  readers  bore, 

Though  from  my  name  no  honor  it  may  claim, 

I  hope  at  least  it  will  reflect  no  shame, 

Latin  and  Greek  and  Hebrew,  too, 

Were  parsed  and  construed  through  and  through  ; 

But  should  I  say  I  did  decline, 

The  last  of  these  you  might  opine 

I  was  somewhat  inclined  to  brag, 

Or  did  attempt  to  be  a  wag  : 

Now,  to  express  my  own  idea, 

The  last  would  be  to  truth  most  near  ; 

Now,  hitherto,  'twas  the  design, 

To  fit  me  for  religion's  shrine, 

But,  this  abandoned,  I  was  to  ignore 

The  Hebrew  language,  with  its  laws  and  lore, 

I  therefore  left  (sufficient  this  explaining), 

The  classical  for  the  commercial  training. 

The  school  I  left,  when  I  became  fifteen, 

Which  thereby  caused  a  shifting  of  the  scene  : 

Some  months  elapsed,  a  year  it  may  be  said, 

Ere  I  decided  how  to  earn  my  bread. 

My  uncle  one  day  mentioned  several  arts, 

Perruques  and  pickles,  Tinware,  Tubs  and  Tarts, 

But  none  of  these  appeared  to  suit  my  mind, 

A  surgeon  ?    Aye.  to  that  I  was  inclined, 

67 


Autobiography. 

My  mind  decided  now  with  full  intent, 

To  Bath's  fair  city  I  my  journey  bent, 

Where  much  I  learnt  that  I've  not  yet  forgot, 

From  Doctor  Parry,  'twas  my  happy  lot, 

On  several  occasions  him  to  meet, 

And  I  assure  you  'twas  no  little  treat ; 

But  I  was  told  one  morning  I  must  go, 

What !  on  some  business,  Oh,  no,  no  !  no,  no  ! 

I  had  not  stole  a  thing,  or  told  a  fib, 

Being  early  taught  such  doing  were  forbid, 

But  it  was  clear  to  London  I  must  hie, 

And  not  allowed  to  say  alas !  oh  lass,  good-bye. 

To  make  the  matter  clear,  it  is  needed, 

That  I  should  state  a  fact  that  had  preceded. 

The  surgeon's  daughter  I  did  much  admire, 

I  tell  you  that  her  name  was — not  Sophia, 

We,  that  is  she  and  I,  our  loves  had  plighted, 

Example  sad,  how  youthful  hopes  are  blighted  ; 

If,  or  if  not,  walls  are  possessed  of  ears, 

I'll  not  decide,  'twas  clear  the  surgeon's  fears 

Of  an  elopement,  or  some  dire  disaster, 

Beyond  the  remedy  of  pill  or  plaster, 

Had  caused  his  heart  to  beat  with  strange  emotion, 

Like  the  wild  billows  of  the  boisterous  ocean, 

About  the  hour  that  ghosts  no  longer  walk, 

I  heard  some  sobs,  mixt  with  an  angry  talk  ; 

And  as  I  raised  to  more  distinctly  hear, 

The  surgeon's  footsteps  came  my  chamber  near, 

He  soon  entered  without  knock  or  bow, 

Which  brings  me  to  where  I  left  off  just  now  ; 


AutobiograpJiy. 

With  stamp  of  foot  the  silence  then  he  broke, 

And  this  the  import  of  the  words  he  spoke  : 

Wherefor,  sir,  came  you  here  ? 

Not  at  the  bugle's  sound  to  hunt  the  deer  ; 

Hither  came  I 

To  learn  how  dext'rously  to  couch  an  eye, 

To  learn  the  art  of  craneum  trepanning, 

To  diagnose  disease  by  symptoms  scanning, 

The  rectus  cut  to  remedy  a  squint, 

Out  of  old  shirts  to  manufacture  lint, 

These,  et  cune  alus,  as  I  suppose, 

When  needed  make  a  Tabecolean  nose, 

Yes,  sirrah,  sirrah,  sirrah !    Yes,  in  short, 

To  learn  your  business,  not  my  daughter  court, 

I  told  her  of  my  love  in  prose  and  rhyme, 

If  that  be  sin,  I'm  guilty  of  the  crime  ; 

And  here  I  make  this  full  and  frank  confession, 

Accuses  not  my  conscience  of  transgression  ; 

But  it  was  clear  that  he  and  I  must  part, 

The  sad  effect  of  little  Cupid's  dart  ; 

If  she  was  in  a  cage  shut  like  a  bird, 

Or  without  supper,  bed-sent  I  ne'er  heard, 

But  I  must  go  (were  useless  disputation), 

To  add  one  more  to  London's  population, 

He  sent  as  my  companion  on  the  way 

(Was  it  in  mockery)  a  Mr.  Gay  ? 

My  uncle's  sister's  husband,  Mr.  B. , 

(His  business  was  exporting  o'er  the  sea, 

Such  goods  and  products  of  the  different  arts, 

As  best  comported  to  the  various  marts  ;) 

69 


Autobiography. 

Thither  each  morning  I  my  journey  took 

My  duty  there  to  copy  in  a  book, 

Such  business  letters  as  were  outward  sent, 

(A  necessary  task)  for  this  intent, 

Of  each  to  write  a  literal  duplicate, 

For  at  the  time  of  which  I  now  relate, 

The  power  of  steam  had  not  been  applied, 

To  carry  vessels  o'er  the  ocean's  tide, 

So  'twas  a  wise  precaution  of  the  trade, 

Lest  the  first  vessel  should  be  long  delay'd, 

By  stress  of  weather,  or  by  tempest  tost, 

That  no  unnecessary  time  be  lost. 

After  some  months  at  Mr.  B  's  expended, 

I  was  to  Banking's  office  recommended, 

My  duties  there,  if  you  would  know,  were  these- 

Besides  what  I  had  done  at  Mr.  B.  's — 

Bills  of  acceptance  to  take  note  and  care, 

And  to  the  Bauking-Houses  to  repair 

Some  curious  incidents  I  might  relate 

Amongst  the  rest  of  Fauntleroy's  sad  fate  ; 

A  lesson  that  to  those  we've  fast  inclined, 

Which  they'd  do  well  to  ponder  in  their  mind. 

Rankings !  Whose  trade  was  of  such  vast  extent, 

Their  merchandise  to  every  land  they  sent. 

Where  old  Brittania's  ships  their  flags  unfurl'd, 

Throughout  the  then  known  habitable  world. 

My  duties  there  (if  you  should  ask)  were  these 

Beside  what  I  had  done  at  Mr.  B.  's. 

In  Berners  street  I  yet  remember  well, 

Marsh-Sibbald  Tracy,  Fauntleroy  did  dwell, 

70 


Autobiography. 

Their  banking  house  was  there,  I  ought  to  Ray, 

If  I'm  right,  on  the  left  side  of  the  way. 

Now,  Fauntleroy  not  heeding  law  or  right, 

Himself  involved  in  a  disastrous  plight ; 

The  fact  is  this,  a  forgery  lie  made, 

For  which  his  life  the  penal  forfeit  paid. 

Kankings  I  left  when  I  became  of  age, 

To  fight  life's  battle  on  the  world's  wide  stage  : 

As  so  took  Adam,  so  took  I  a  wife, 

To  soften  the  asperities  of  life  ; 

Or,  rather,  I  concluded  so  to  do, 

Certain  preliminaries  I  must  first  go  through  ; 

Amongst  my  friends  a  lady  I  must  find, 

To  matrimonial  ties  not  disinclined  ; 

And  one  I  sought,  of  high  and  noble  birth, 

Of  strictest  honor  (gem  of  priceless  worth)  ; 

To  her  I  went 

And  with  due  preface  stated  my  intent. 

She  blush'd  ('tis  not  unusual  I  suppose), 

With  eyes  half  closed  directed  toward  her  toes. 

Inf'irm'd  me  grati*  !  !  that  the  day  was  fine, 

And  begged  I'd  taste,  of  course,  a  glass  of  wine  ; 

'Tis  strange  how  ladies  will  the  question  parry 

When  you  just  simply  ask,  "  Will  you  me  marry  V 

Now  sometimes  'tis  convenient  deaf  to  appear. 

Or  to  pretend  to  not  distinctly  hear  ; 

By  banns,  I  said,  of  course,  the  usual  way, 

It  but  remains  for  you  to  name  the  day. 

She  something  s  iid  about  her  Pa's  consent, 

Which  clearly  show'd  that  she  did  not  dissent, 


Autobiography. 

I  went  of  course  again  within  a  week, 
Prepared  with  school-boy  eloquence  to  speak. 
But  when  I  came 

Within  the  presence  of  the  courteous  Dame  ; 
The  speech  I  had  prepared  I  quite  forgot, 
So  said  "  Miss  Gladstone  "  shall  it  be  my  lot, 
To  have  you  for  my  wife,  she  said,  why  not. 
So  said  I  promptly  as  you  so  decide, 
Without  delay  then  let  the  knot  be  tied. 
So  to  the  Rectory  I  went  that  day, 
And  told  the  Parson  what  I  had  to  say. 
He  may  have  said,  (I'm  not  sure  that  I'm  right), 
I'll  take  good  care  to  tie  you  strong  and  tight. 
So  on  the  Sunday  following,  Dr.  Bellamy 
The  Congregation  asked  if  friend  or  enemy 
Objection  had  their  heads  these  two  young  folk 
Should  put  within  the  matrimonial  yoke  ; 
As  none  to  this  proposal  made  dissent, 
It  was  decided  that  they  gave  consent. 
Twice  more  (the  congregation  duly  seated), 
The  same  proposal  was  again  repeated  ; 
'Twas  granted,  by  their  silence  they  agreed 
The  marriage  ceremony  should  proceed  ; 
Soon  the  morrow  to  the  church  we  went, 
(  Tis  needless  here  to  say  with  what  intent). 
As  two  we  entered  (it  was  quickly  done), 
By  parson's  logic,  we  came  out  as  one. 

Now,  as  we  both  had  previously  agreed 
Across  the  broad  Atlantic  to  proceed, 

72 


Autobiography. 

In  tlie  tirst  place  a  vessel  must  be  fouiiJ 

Thsit  to  the  City  of  New  York  was  bound. 

This  wus  indeed  an  easy  tiling  to  do, 

For  of  that  class,  of  course,  there  were  not  a  few. 

Our  berth  was  soou  engaged  on  board  the  ship, 

And  we  were  ready  to  begin  the  trip  ; 

.Bidding  our  friends  and  family  "adieu," 

We  left  the  Old  World  to  explore  the  New. 

The  anchor  weighed  ;  then  on  we  gaily  go, 

Twould  be  at  this  time  thought  extremely  slow  ; 

Our  wistful  eyes  long  gazed  on  Albion's  shore, 

It  were  a  hopeless  wish  to  see  once  more, 

But  memory  lingering  on  my  native  land, 

With  hurrying  step  may  throng  the  busy  strand  ; 

And  fancy  bending  the  submissive  will, 

In  half  a  second  stand  on  Primrose  Hill, 

(That  ancient  mound,  I  hear  now  leveled  down, 

To  suit  the  growing  increase  of  the  town, ) 

Bow  Church,  in  legendary  lore  oft  named, 

St.  Paul's  for  vastness  and  for  grandeur  famed, 

On  whose  stupendous  structure  oft  I've  gazed, 

Transport  with  admiration  and  amazed. 

Two  places  more  to  mention  now  remain, 

Begging  the  readers  patience  to  retain. 

First,  Tottenham  Church,  beneath  whose  walls  repose 

The  sacred  relics  whence  her  spirit  rose  ; 

She,  to  my  cherish 'd  memory  ever  dear, 

Who  from  my  childhood's  eyes  oft  wiped  the  tear, 

The  other  which  my  memory  reveres, 

The  birthplace  (Hull)  of  my  ancestral  sires. 


Autobiogra/pyy. 

Now,  seated  on  the  deck  I  will  review 

The  ship,  the  captain,  passengers  and  crew. 

One  passenger  on  board  the  ship 

Was  known  as  Mistress  S., 
The  other  letters  of  her  name 

Not  one  of  us  could  guess, 
But  she  was  reticent,  retired  — 
And  why  she  came  on  board  the  ship, 
Or  what  the  object  of  her  trip 

Not  one  of  us  inquired. 
But  this  the  fact, 
Another's  act 

Had  caused  her  much  commotion. 
It  was  enough  to  make  her  cross, 

And  so  she  crossed  the  ocean, 
Now  Mrs.  S.  (it  may  be  said), 

Was  on  a  wedded  tour 
^o  seek  a  husband  she  had  wed, 

O'er  twenty  years  before. 
Now,  Mr.  S.,  'tis  sad  to  say, 

Enough  the  heart  to  vex, 
Could  not  be  deemed  a  sample  fair 

Of  our  exalted  sex. 
If  of  this  naughty  man  you  wish 

His  wickedness  to  know, 
The  sequel  as  I  now  proceed 

His  faithlessness  will  show. 
Good  Mrs.  S.  one  afternoon 

Went  out  a  friend  to  see, 
And  as  she  went,  remarked  that  she 

74 


Autobiography. 

Might  stay  till  after  tea. 
These  ladies  talk'd-  of  course,  they  did 

It's  natural  to  suppose, 
Of  this  and  that  and  other  things 

Besides  the  belles  and  beaux. 
Now,  'tis  a  proverb  very  old, 

That  waiteth  Time  for  no  man  ; 
And  it  is  equally  as  true, 

He  waiteth  not  for  woman. 
How  ignorant  we  mortals  are 

About  our  future  fate ! 
So  Mrs.  S.  remained  and  talked 

Till  it  was  very  late. 
When  she  got  home  the  fire  was  out, 

And  so  was  Bettie,  too, 
And  so  was  Mr.  S. ;  so  that 

Her  face  looked  rather  blue. 
Now,  how  she  spent  the  lonesome  night, 

In  sobs  or  vengeful  ire  ? 
I  tell  you.  now  before  you  ask, 

'Twere  useless  to  enquire, 
On  pondering,  she  guessed  the  cause, 

That  she  was  such  a  fix  in, 
Was  the  sly  and  simpering,  smirking  smiles 

Of  the  vile  and  vicked  vixen. 
Five  years  she  stayed  and  nothing  learned 

Of  Mr.  S.,  and  then  returned  ; 
If  she  had  found  the  guilty  pair 

Before  the  man  had  risen, 
would  have  said  as  Adam  did, 


AwtobeogFaphy, 

That  the  fault  wasn't  his'u. 
Nothing  of  note  occurred  the  voyage  through, 
About  the  ship,  the  passengers  or  crew, 
When  some  weeks  out,  as  seated  down  below 
We  heard  the  joyful  sound,  "Land  ho !  land  ho  ! 
And  up  we  scampered  on  the  deck, 
But  of  the  land  we  could  not  see  a  speck. 
As  on  the  deck  we  showed  our  slender  shanks, 
The  sailors  thus  assembled  with  puerile  pranks. 
Said  one  (who  seemed  more  jovial  than  the  rest), 
Not  there,  with  finger  pointing  to  the  west, 
But  (as  if  pregnant  with  a  racy  treat) 
Just  twenty  fathoms  down  below  your  feet. 
Being  not  disposed  to  prove  it  by  submersion, 
As  fact  accepted  on  his  own  assertion, 
With  unclosed  eyes  we  spent  the  lengthy  night, 
And  gladly  hailed  the  dawning  of  the  light. 
In  July  eighteen  hundred  twenty-two, 
The  city  of  New  York  appeared  in  view, 
And  on  the  thirteenth  day 
The  ship  "  Acasta  "  entered  New  York  Bay. 
We  quickly  landed  and  were  soon  enstalled 
In  Greenwich  village,  as  it  then  was  called. 
The  yellow  fever  in  short  time  appeared, 
Which  bygmauy^mightily  was  feared, 
No  new  pursuit'could  prudence  hope  to  tind 
Till  the  fell  epidemic  had  declined. 
Now,  'tis  easy  to  sail 
With  a  prosperous  gale, 
But  it  tries  a  man's  pluck  when  expedient's  fail. 

76 


Autobiography. 

I've  oft  reflected  since  we  landed  here, 
How  venturesome  we  were,  but  had  no  fear, 
Here  in  a  foreign  laud,  to  all  unknown, 
And  yet  we  felt  we  were  not  quite  alone. 
To  heaven  it  is  due  we  never  wanted  bread, 
Nor  yet  a  shelter  to  repose  our  head  ; 
In  our  own  country  with  a  slender  purse, 
'Tis  bad  enough,  but  in  a  strange  land  worse. 
Our  purse,  you'll  not  doubt  it,  was  getting  more  light, 
And  our  prospects  were  certainly  not  very  bright. 
Then  finding  myself  in  so  queer  a  quandary, 
It  was  evident,  quite,  I  my  tactics  must  vary. 
As,  one  afternoon,  I  sorrowing  sat, 
'Tweeu  a  squirrel  at  play  and  a  cogitant  cat, 
In  the  fall  of  the  year,  cu  a  dark,  dismal  day, 
It  seemed  a  bird  sang  this  hilarious  lay  : 
"Come,  jump  up,  young  man  ;  don't  be  sorry  and  sad. 
Remember,  in  years  you're  scarce  more  than  a  lad. 
Like  the  squirrel,  be  lively  and  gay. 
And  from  Tabby  a  lesson  you  may  learn,  for  they  say, 
There  surely  is  wisdom  in  hairs  that  are  gray." 
So  I  jumped  up  erect,  viewed  the  horizon's  bound, 
Looked  up  at  the  sky,  then  down  on  the  ground  ; 
But  from  none  of  these  objects  any  comfort  I  found. 
So  I  sat  down  again,  and  in  thought  most  profound. 
It  seemed  that  Dame  Fortune  leaned  over  my  heml, 
And  into  my  ear  a  few  kind  whispers  said. 
Which  I  wondered  upon  till  I  went  to  bed. 
In  the  morning  I  woke  as  I'd  oft  done  before, 
And  with  sober  aspect  when  breakfast  was  o'er, 
77 


Autobiography. 

I  slowly  and  thoughtfully  said  to  my  wife, 
I'm  revolving  a  subject  concerning  our  life. 
Of  chemical  science  a  little  I've  read, 
So  by  it  I'll  try  to  earn  butter  and  bread. 
She  said  ('tis  a  fact,  though  I  tell  it  in  verse), 
No  change,  I  believe,  could  be  made  for  the  worse. 
So  -with  basket  on  arm  to  the  market  I  went, 
And  in  mutton  tallow  a  few  dollars  spent. 
In  Alteris  Rebus  some  more  I  expended, 
And  then  was  prepared  for  the  project  intended. 
Those  who  saw  the  production  declared— not  a  pin,  sir, 
Did  it  differ  from  soap  that  is  called  soap  of  Windsor. 
To  the  druggists  I  sold  it  as  fast  as  'twas  made, 
So  by  my  wits  end  I'd  worked  up  a  trade. 
For  the  orders  for  soap  came  in  faster  and  faster, 
With  now  and  then  one  for  Diachylon  plaster. 
And  Hydroxid  Rubex  collodion  cuticle, 
With  one  or  two  more  iu  the  line  pharmaceutical  ; 
This  fact  I  found  out  no  truth  covdd  be  surer, 
I  could  never  get  rich  by  each  day  getting  poorer. 
I  purchased  the  stock  in  such  quantities  small, 
That  the  profit  was  oft  less  than  nothing  at  all, 
But  this  purpose  it  served  by  due  persevering, 
In  the  science  that's  known  by  the  name  financiering, 
How  it  would  have  ended  it  would  have  been  hard  to  tell 
If  after  a  time  I'd  had  nothing  to  sell ; 
But  a  change  soon  occurred  which  encouragement  gave; 
So  to  suit  the  occasion  I'll  alter  my  story. 
As  to  a  customer  I  went, 
My  merchandise  to  sell, 


Autobiography. 

He  welcomed  me  with  how-do, 

I  answered  him,  quite  well. 
Said  he,  "  Imve  you  determined  yet?  " 

He'd  spoke  of  it  before, 
' '  "Us  the  best  thing  that  you  can  do 

A  pharruacutic  stoie." 
Said  I,  ' '  Sir,  your  advice  is  good, 

And  I  esteem  it  kind  ; 
And  would,  were  there  no  obstacles, 

Exactly  suit  my  mind, 
To  hire  a  store,  perhaps 
Might  not  be  very  hard  to  do, 
But  for  the  stock  'twould  dollars  need, 

And  of  them  not  a  few. " 
Said  he,  ' '  Go  hire  a  store  at  once, 

Wait  not  another  day  ; 
I'll  furnish  you  with  all  you  need, 

And  give  you  time  to  pay. " 
So  off  I  went  and  hired  a  store 

Before  the  day  was  ended  ; 
And  then  with  joyful  heart,  my  steps 

I  homeward  quickly  wended. 
We  drank  the  health  of  our  friend,  D. — 

That  is,  my  wife  and  self — 
Whut  would  have  been  a  gkiss  of  trim , 

But  it  was  out  of  delf. 

Few  druggists  at  that  time  were  up  to  the  mark 
With  a  Latin  prescription  were  oft  in  the  dark. 
So  many  physicians  my  patrons  became, 
And  by  it  much  confidence  gave  to  my  name. 

79 


Autobiography. 

By  this  time  I  credit  and  cash  could  command  ; 

So  I  opened  a  store  in  the  street,  that's  called  Grand, 

Where  my  name,  in  gilt  letters,  could  plainly  be  seen 

On  the  block  that  is  Cannon  and  Lewis  between. 

But  as  my  desire  on  chirurgery  centered, 

Professor  Steven's  office  I  entered. 

In  1830,  the  spring  of  the  year, 

On  examination  proved,  I  was,  quite  clear, 

To  all  the  wise  councilors,  sitting  in  state, 

To  diploma  entitled,  as  shown  by  its  date. 

When  sick  we  freely  take  to  cure  our  ills, 

Quassia,  quintessences,  quinine  and  squills. 

But  to  pursue  the  doctor's  daily  bound 

Affords  but  little  pleasure  to  the  sound. 

So  fifty  years  of  such  I  will  pass  o'er, 

Hoping  in  sober  prose  to  meet  once  more, 

Hoping,  although  presumptuous,  this  to  say, 

So  deep  in  debt  dare  I  for  more  to  pray  ? 

Blessings  unnumbered  bounteously  given, 

My  years  now  reaching  nearly  eighty-seven. 

Though  by  the  record  of  historic  page, 

Thousands  have  lived  beyond  my  present  age. 

I  think  'twould  not  be  easy  one  to  find 

Blessed  with  more  health  of  body  and  of  mind. 

But  false  to  judge  of  future  years  the  length 

By  the  mere  measure  of  our  present  strength. 

The  towering  oak  falls  by  the  woodman's  blow, 

The  slender  sapling  leaves  do  stronger  grow. 

Full  of  frail  hope  we  hail  the  rising  day, 

Ere  sets  the  sun  death  seat  is  as  his  proy. 


Autobiography. 
* 

We  know  that  we  must  die,  but  when  the  blow, 
No  weak-mind  man  but  God  alone  can  know. 
A  few  more  years,  a  few  more  months, 

Perhaps  but  one  short  day  ; 
May  pass  before  we're  called  to  leave 
This  tenement  of  clay. 

Be  this,  O  Lord !  my  daily  prayer, 

Before  my  night's  repose  ; 
In  mercy,  Thou !  my  sins  remit, 

And  pardon  all  my  foes. 


Lines  Written  in  mi  Albion. 


Lines   Written    by   the   Author  in  a  Lady's 
Album. 

I    NEED  not  attempt  (for  in  vain  should  I  try) 
With  sentiments  worthy  this  page  to  supply  ; 
With  Webster  in  hand,  and  my  spelling-book,  too, 
I'll  sit  myself  down  and  try  what  I  can  do  : 
My  subject  I'll  choose,  now  what  shall  it  be, 
The  wonders  of  Heaven,  the  Earth,  or  the  Sea. 
The  deeds  of  the  warrior  of  icorld  renowned  glory, 
The  stage  "stricken  hero,  the  Whig  or  the  Tory? 
The  Molochs  of  trade  who  for  gold  sell  their  health, 
Or  the  Hermit  contented  (tho'  scant  be.  his  wealth). 
The  pangs  of  the  Martyrs  who  suffered  for  good, 
And  proved  themselves  faithful  by  shedding  their  blood  ? 
These  themes  have  been  all  by  wise  sages  told  o'er, 
So  tho'  I  might  try  I  could  add  nothing  more  ; 
But  to  prove  myself  willing,  I  thought  I'd  begin, 
Tho'  I  freely  confess  that  I'm  quite  "  taken  in  ;  " 
But  how  to  get  out  is  now  what  I  desire, 
For  the  muses  refuse  me  with  aid  to  inspire  ; 
I've  courted  them  ardently,  yet  are  they  mute, 
They're  determined  to  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  my  suit. 
But  stop,  if  you  count  them,  you'll  find  the  lines  twenty, 
And  (such  as  they  are)  you  will  say  "  that  is  plenty  ;  " 


Lines  Written  in  an    Album. 

So  to  be  not  abrupt,  I  must  set  about  ending, 
For  I  think  I  had  best,  as  I  find  I'm  not  mending. 
Now  I'll  bid  you  farewell,  with  be^t  wishes  for  health, 
And  worldly  prosperity,  falsely  called  wealth  ; 
And  the  treasures  which  wear,  without  canker  or  rust, 
That  enrich  when  our  body's  consigned  to  the  dust. 


On  Thoughtlessness. 

HO\V  many  dear  friendships  are  riven  and  broken, 
By  a  word  of  uukindness  unthoughtf  ully  spoken  ; 
As  1  iy  arrow  envenomed  on  its  errand  of  death, 
The  warm  heart  of  a  friend  may  be  chilled  by  the  breath, 
Lips  frequent  would  sigh,  or,  alas !  (Interjection) 
Be  uttered,  or  breathed  by  a  little  reflection. 


AS  I  undertake  to  present  to  the  world 
Something  new,  it  is  proper  my  flag  be  unfurled. 
For  some  would-be  critics  there  are  in  the  laud, 
Who  censure  the  most  what  they  least  understand. 
My  counsel  to  such,  this  advice  as  a  friend : 
To  never  condemn  till  you  first  comprehend. 
Above  all,  if  you  wish  as  a  wise  man  to  rank, 
Hinjufrc  /ft,  Can  any  good  come  from  Yaphauk? 
— Knrjii.i!i    Hfinniiiiii-  Siin.)iliji<'<l    (now  in    press,   by    the 
author). 


Poem  on  a  Railroad  Accident. 


Poem     on     the     Occasion     of    the     Long 

Island  Railroad  Accident  in  April, 

Several    Years   Ago. 

DEATH!     where  can  we  hide  from  thy   merciless 
shaft? 

Can  we  flee  to  some  sheltering  tower, 
Where  on  the  broad  earth  is  security  when 

Thou  com'st  in  the  pride  of  thy  power  ? 
The  high-born,  the  valiant,  the  learned,  the  great, 

The  proud  with  life's  glory  elate  ; 
With  the  lowly,  the  base,  the  degenerate  of  earth, 

In  common  thy  summons  await. 
Thou  dost  thine  insatiable  conquest  proclaim, 

As  lay  side  by  side  slayer  and  slain  ; 
In  the  vigor  of  youth  by  thy  sickle  mow'd  down, 

In  their  flush,  on  the  crimson'd  plain. 
Thou  invadest  the  mart  where  traffickers  meet, 

Where  wassailers  in  reveling  dwell ; 
Where  a  friend  is  returning  a  lov'd  friend  to  greet, 

And  the  anchorite's  lonesome  cell. 

Then  cease,  mortal,  cease,  thy  mad  career  cease ! 

To  Heaven  address  thy  prayer  ; 
The  conflicts  and  sorrows  of  life  pass'd  o'er, 

Thou'lt  secure  an  inheritance  there. 

84 


Poem  on  a  Railroud  Accident. 

How  oft  is  commingled  with  music  of  mirth 

The  kuell  of  the  funeral  dirge  ; 
How  frequent  monitions  of  warning  note 

By  the  wreck  on  the  foaming  surge. 
But  when  as  but  yester  the  proud  monarch  .-luo.l, 

And  so  near  us  he  levell'd  his  bow  ; 
Our  hearts  (as  our  eyes  with  such  earnest  read  o'er 

The  piteous  recital  of  woe), 
Felt  sad,  altho'  none  'mongst  the  names  we  scanu'd  o'er 

Were  kind  cousin,  fond  brother  or  friend, 
There  were  those  gladly  waiting  in  full  hopes  to  greet 

With  joy  at  their  journey's  end. 
Friends  who  were  bound  by  the  sweetest  cords 

That  Heaven  to  earth  has  given  ; 
Tho'  sever'd  with  sorrow  no  more  here  to  meet, 

May  again  be  united  in  Heaven. 

Then  cease,  mortal,  etc. 


Sad  mourners  !  we  wail  your  heart-rending  woe, 

And  may  God  in  his  merciful  power 
Give  you  patience  and  faith  to  siibmissively  bow 

To  the  clouds  that  so  heavily  low'r. 
May  grace  be  imparted  yoiir  trials  to  beur, 

The  smart  of  affliction  t'  endure  ; 
Reposing  in  confidence,  patience  and  love 

On  the  Rock  that  is  steadfast  and  sure  ; 
That  a  home  better  far  than  this  world  can  provide, 

May  be  ours  in  the  Regions  of  Bliss  ; 

85 


Poem  on  a  Railroad  Accident. 

Having  each  of  us  learnt  by  this  shock  of  the  hour, 

Our  lease  how  uncertain  on  this. 
May  we  meet  with  composure  the  message  that  calls 

Us  away  from  earth's  perishing  joys  ; 
And  with  ready  compliance  the  summons  obey, 

In  the  hope  of  Eternity's  prize. 

Then  cease,  mortal,  etc. 


Duty   True    Pleasure. 

LIFE  may  be  likened  to  a  cup, 
That  holds  a  certain  measure, 
And  if  with  care  you  fill  it  up, 

You  have  not  room  for  pleasure. 
But  what  is  Pleasure  ? — let  me  ask 

(A  requisite  rogation). 
True  Pleasure,  then,  is  duty's  task 

Performed  with  exultation. 
At  Duty's  call,  as  soon  as  heard, 

With  promptitude  enacted  ; 
By  no  false  reasoning  deferred, 

Or  questioning  protracted. 


H 


Hope. 


On  Hope. 

OPE'S  they  say, 
A  flatterer  gay, 
And  life's  a  noisy  bubble  ; 
Joy,  they  say, 
Will  wear  away 
And  leave  us  naught  but  trouble. 

But  wait  a  while 

And  let  us  smile 
To  hear  folks  talk  so  queerly. 

For  what  is  life  ? 

'Tis  naught  but  strife 
For  which  we  pay  too  dearly. 

For  hope's  in  truth, 

The  lamp  of  youth, 
Though  true  that  some  have  stranded, 

Yet,  'tis  averred, 

That  single  word 
As  many  safely  landed. 

When  manhood's  cares 

And  worldly  snares 
May  set  the  heart  to  aching, 

Oh,  then  with  hope 

What  else  can  cope 
To  keep  the  heart  from  breaking. 


M 


On  Hope. 

Oh,  then  let  hope 
Its  fullest  scope 

Enjoy  while  here  we  wander, 
And  may  its  light 
Shine  ever  bright 

To  laud  us  safely  yonder. 


Rebus. 


Y  firsf  sounds  like  something  than  an  apple  more 
round, 


Of  which  in  large  cities  great  numbers  abound  ; 
My  next,  a  man's  face  sometimes  looks  in  the'glass, 
But  it  not  so  appears  when  he's  courting  a  lass  ; 
My  third  is  possessed  by  man,  woman  and  child, 
By  civilized  nations  and  savages  wild  ; 
My  whole  is  what  folks  are  said  sometimes  to  go  on, 
But  'tis  not  a  small  pond  a  boat  you  could  row  on. 
A  nswer.  — Pil-grim-age. 


Errata. 

I'ACiE.          LINK. 

14          11     For  "when"  read  "where" 

21          24    For  "audist"  read  "audits" 

29          12    For  "obvious"  read  "oblivious" 

29          14    For    "towards    roomattic"    read    ''tow'nls 

the  roomattic  " 
'ill          12     For  "Tabecoleau      read  "Talicotian." 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


orm  L9-2m-6,'49(B4568)444 


"  R* 


inwil  11BRARVFACI 

fl' 


000023917 


PS 

1939 
H55o 


